


Acolyte

by Iunara



Series: Darth Marr the Outlander [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background fic, Canon-Typical Racism, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Slavery, Characters ages are changed, Empire propaganda, Gen, I play accordion with timelines and character's ages, Malgus makes a brief appearance for a few chapters, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sith Academy, Sith Politics, Sith education, Sith sport tournament, character with clairvoyant and prophetic powers, down and up, timelines have been tampered with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara/pseuds/Iunara
Summary: To become Sith, no matter the background, one has to learn to be one first. For former slaves turned Acolytes, this would be harder than for others who did not have the stigma associated with them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation from Liberation.  
> It is going to span the years Edenye is an acolyte in the Ziost academy to the trials on Korriban. Malgus and Eleena will feature at some point, but not for a while.

‘ _The last line of our code “The Force shall free me” emphasises two fundamental concepts…_ ’

  
Edenye rubbed her forehead as she selected the marker tool on her datapad. Two concepts, marked. It was quiet in the class she was in, except the occasional rustling of clothes and a loud exhale from Zolaen, the Twi’lek sitting behind her. Frustration rising and falling with his breaths tickling the hair on the back of her neck whenever he did so. Not the easiest text… she knew. Her head was already swimming with all the foreign and — sophisticated, as their overseer had called it — words that were used.

  
‘ _…of our society: the self and the advancement of the self._ ’

  
The self… what Malgus talked about all the time. But never about the advancement, only about its preservation…

  
‘ _Since our power derives by enforcing our will on the Force, the statement that it shall also function as our ultimate liberator rings to the contrary_.’

  
What did this mean? Enforcing the will on the Force was a fight to keep her mind and will intact to not lose herself into the Force! How was this a struggle for freedom?

  
‘ _However, it is the tool that allows our ‘self’ to grow into its full potential while the retention of this ‘self’ is the biggest obstacle to overcome_.’

  
At least she could follow this one.

  
‘ _The ultimate goal of any Sith is gain personal freedom_.’

  
Well, how was this connected to the previous sentences? Personal freedom, the self was somewhat contained in this. If she could assume this far.

  
‘ _All past strife and conflict point to this one coveted prize only a few can and ever had achieved. To live by the code is to be constantly advancing one’s position. It dictates the inability to progress and ascend in the ranks laid out by our Emperor as a sign of weakness. The weak cannot rule the Empire and be the arbiters of our great society_.’

  
Past strife? Was this referring to the mindless ones? Or was this again on the personal level? No, she was stupid again. This entire text was on the indi… she forgot the word again. Stupid stupid. Her chest tightened at the last sentence as shame simmered up along her shoulders. The weak, slaves, one she had been and will always will be. She had to rely on another to be here now… weak. Every single one… no. Not everyone. Reah, the only Pureblood in this class, a bright burning light glowing in her peripheral, had killed her Master and earned her place here. The only true Sith here, her anger and hatred shrilling louder than anything she had ever heard when they had first met. Shades clung to her every step, hiding in the folds of their uniform, winding around her her fingers. Always in the corner of her eyes and gone when she looked closer.

 _Stay away_ …

Again, the whispers were louder ever since Malgus had showed her how to feel the Force a week ago. More insistent, but the warmth they always spread was comforting at times. Stars, she was spacing out again! Quickly, she looked up to the chrono display over the holo-display on the wall. Two minutes left to read and then the inevitable interrogation came of their understanding. One she could not fail. Irithrea had already felt the consequences of the wrong interpretation once. The smell of smoke and the screams… bile was back in her throat and she had to swallow heavily to push it down. Do not remember. Not now. Lowering her eyes, she scanned the lines to where she had left off.

‘ _Our passions give us the strength and as touched upon in the previous section; the hate, anger one hones fuel our power and will open a sure path of victory over the Force and through the Force we shall be free_.’

  
Strength through passion and then… The connection was clear now! As Sith they fought for control and power the Force could give and when they did, everything was possible and in their grasp! Even a slave becoming Sith! Only her passions had to be stronger, unwavering when she did. Her shoulders sank when a heavy weight settled on them and her eyes started to burn when pressure built up from tears wanting to be spilled. But… hers never boiled and raged as strongly and harshly as the others’ around her. Weak… that was what she was and always will be. A pathetic slave! How could she even think she’d ever have a place other than the lowest ranks in the Sith Order? Why could she not bring herself to hate? Just what was wrong with her?

“Time for reading is over,” Tashridge cut in.

Sharp fear spiked up, drilling into her left ear. Oh no… she glanced to where Irithrea sat. Pale grey eyes ripped wide open in a panic that screeched louder for a split second before Tashridge’s eyes settled on the small Zabrak. Hard and flashing with, her heart clenched painfully, pure anticipating glee.

Loud cackling echoed suddenly in her skull, blurring her vision when cold shivers shot down her spine. Hatred coiled around her throat. Tashridge had heard — no sensed — it too then.

“Acolyte Irithrea,” Tashridge sang skin-crawlingly sweet, “Tell me, how do we win our freedom?”

Irithrea froze, body jerking into a ram-rod straight position, “Enforce our will and the Force will obey. Then we are free of all constraints posed…”

“Seems like you learned from your mistake,” Tashridge sneered snidely, disappointment digging into her skin leaving a hollow stench of burnt flesh lingering in her nose.

She looked down where her hands had twisted into each other, skin stark white where her fingers had dug into. Failure had been expected. Wanted even. From Irithrea, from her… from everyone.

“Acolyte Edenye,” Tashridge suddenly said, tone more even, more careful at times as if she was prodding for something.

“Yes, Overseer,” she said, the words feeling more like a shield more than anything.

“Explain to us all why this freedom is so important to our Empire?” she asked.

“If the Force forces its will onto us, its vessels, we become mindless like the Jedi and become a danger to the Empire,” she blurted forth.

Remember the texts and all the times the Jedi had suppressed their freedom and killed entire worlds for it! All of this… the code, the way the Empire worked and was structured. Their Emperor had ordained it all so that they could never be killed by the Jedi who despised everything they stood for. This was their only defense. Only the strong could defend them. Someone as weak as her could never….

“Good,” Tashridge grinned, “Good to know you are paying attention.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. On the first day the whispers had been so loud, the shades so stark in their contrast she had missed a word… and the lightning Tashridge had punished her with had been more painful than any shock from the slave collar.

“Now, Acolyte Reah, how can we be sure that this text is not written by a heretic?”

A heretic… the ones who worked to destroy the Empire from within. Ones who wanted them all to become like the Jedi! Glee radiated from Reah whose face brightened up when Tashridge’s attention turned to her. Desperation clawed at her when it happened. Hard and bitter, almost feverishly hot.

“This was written by Darth Calun, past Dark Council Member of the Sphere of Sith Philosophy and was sanctioned when Darth Aruk took his seat,” Reah recited without stuttering.

“Very good,” Tashridge grinned smugly now, “For the next two days you will be in no lessons, but your Force and combat training will take place the entire day. However, when we reconvene I want you all to have written an essay on the role of freedom in our society. Two thousand words minimum.”

“Yes, overseer,” they all intoned back just as the chrono changed to the end of their lesson.

The doors slid open then, revealing Overseer Phremon who would accompany them to the next overseer. Her chest grew tight when Phremon stepped into the room hands clasped behind his back. A shadow on the wall moved when he walked in. Miniscule, but it robbed her of breath. But then it stopped as if it had never moved to begin with.

“I trust they were tolerable?” he asked gruffly, not sparing them a glance.

“They were acceptable,” Tashridge sniffed straightening out a fold in her robes, “I shall return in two days.”

Boots clicked on the floor as she glided out, leaving a strange smell in the air that diffused soon after.

“Get moving,” Phremon barked, “Overseer Pineham does not tolerate lateness.”

Of course, she pushed the chair back her knees creaking from sitting so long, lateness was punished. As almost everything here. The others stood up as well, faces down, silent as they followed him out into the corridor where other Overseers led their own groups to their various classes. Some had been here for months apparently already, as far as she had managed to gather. First Philosophy, then politics and history. All the while Force and combat training. So they were ' _adequate_ ' to get to the proper academy and it had to be proven. Progress in the classes and in all two training units.

One she wasn’t doing too well in. Malgus had been wrong… she would not succeed. Whatever her power was, it was wild, once she willed the Force to do her bidding it went… everywhere. Control, the overseer always muttered, what she lacked was control. It was easier for Reah, everything was easier for her. Must be in her blood, while hers was too dirty. Should be grateful she could even get this far.

“An essay?” Irithrea who was walking beside her hissed, “We’ve been only here for a week and now we have to write an essay?”

“Sh,” she muttered back ducking her head closer to the Zabrack who was also her sparring partner, “They already warned you about talking in the corridors.”

“What they don’t know, won’t make them hot,” she shot back, but quieter finally, “You have the better notes, I need your help.”

Why was she even asking her? After all she was already doing for her too?

“Of course,” she replied, “When?”

“Tonight?” Irithrea suggested looking in front of them where Hadrian and Orion walked blocking their view to Phremon’s back.

She nodded quickly fingering the hem of her red tunic. One she had been given to change into when the medical exam had been done. Warmth sank into her right shoulder where Irithrea walked and looked up to see a kind smile shining down. Seeing her was like looking into a cloud the sun was shining through. Sparkling and blinding, far stronger than her in every way.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, comforting reassurance vibrating against Edenye’s cheek, “You only have been trying for a week.”

“It never stays in control,” she argued back.

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t,” Irithrea reminded her patiently, “You see things that I, and for sure not the others, do not see. Imagine what you see once you master control.”

She had nothing to say to that. Never had when Irithrea pushed back so insistently, all warm and gentle. Pushing away the cold fingers and pitch black shadows in the night. Reminded her of Uom, of her mother… of Eleena when she showed her how to make tea or when Malgus kept sitting her down to meditate. There was nothing to master. Hate and anger… it was there, but it did not fill her with the burst of power that it had given her on the ship. Relion… the overseers here, the punishments. All of them, not enough. What was wrong with her?

As they rounded a corner, the fluttering of fabric behind her sent the hair on her neck on edge. Something was looking straight at the back of her skull. Waiting… A red ribbon moved in the corner of her eye before…  
A light giggle echoed in her ears.  
_Come see_!

Do not look. Do not turn around. The Force was playing tricks on her again. It was just that, nothing else. 

* * *

Overseer Pineham already knelt on his cushioned dais when they were herded into his tiny and airy room, with a tall window at his back letting in the dull winter sun.

“On the dot,” Pineham commented drily opening his yellow eyes to stare them down, “Sit down. We have no time to waste.”

They all scrambled to kneel on each designated space on the floor facing him.

“You already know what to do,” he got up when she settled on her knees more comfortably, “I shall merely observe.”  
“Yes, overseer.”

Her stomach twisted when the shadow behind him flickered. Ice coated her heart, clenching it down to a stuttering rhythm just as ice shards sewed her throat shut. More flickering…, the shadow elongated….  
No, no…. Go away! She had nothing! Not the one they wanted!

It stopped. Just a normal shadow again, one that did not move.  
Right… concentrate.

Breathe in…  
Breathe out…  
Weight pressed down on her shoulders, clutching at her heart. No… she was in control… she would not lose herself! Never again would she at the mercy of it!

Just then her ears popped. It was easier now… the Force obeyed her… unwillingly, but it did. Every moment she could lose her frail control over it… and then it all would be all over. Familiar, cool and soothing power bubbled in her veins rushing to her fingers and to a tight ball in her stomach, prickling at the edge of her skin. All hers to wield and command.

A light giggle to her side.  
Go away!

Then silence.

How easy it was to will the dust in the air to stop floating to only hover stock still in the air. Looking down to her fingers which gripped the hem of her tunic. Purple tendrils flowed between them, small and faint. Not as bright and shining like Reah’s or the deep red of Irithrea’s. But it was there and it was her own.

 _Listen_ …

Her shadow twitched. Her heart stuttered painfully as it grew longer. No… no! Not again! More flickering. Go away…!  
Just then a finger stroked down her neck, shooting ice down her spine. Freezing the air in her lungs. No… not them! Limbs grew out at the top just as it rose up to her. A round shape shimmered in front of her. Half-transparent, not the solid black that always darkened her peripherals when she was alone. Always around her, a step in the corridors. The giggle when silence filled the air or a presence behind her where there was none.

Brown eyes blinked at her, wide… blood shot.  
_Revenge_ , a gap opened in the shape where the brown eyes glared down, _Kill….him… See, you will see_!

She did not want to see! This was death staring at her! Get away... please!

There had been enough death already, it was brimming in the air here. Always stretching its fingers out in the night. Sadness brushed over her eyelids, sorrow enveloping everyone around her… except her.

 _You will see_ … the shape grew paler, fainter until it diffused into the dust that did not seem to have moved. Sun light chased the shadow away. Freeing her lungs and she sucked in a deep gulp. Only the ice remained, raising the hair on her arms and neck. Please, let there be no more shades here!

“Excellent,” Overseer Pineham suddenly muttered gravely into her ear, “Your grasp on the Force is progressing very well.”

Was it? She looked up to him and the many wrinkles that marred his face. Smug pride radiated from him, until it snuffed out completely the next instance.

“Your control has grown, but it is still lacking,” he huffed before moving on to Zolaen who breathed evenly beside her.

She let out a long breath, watching as the dust whirled in the steady stream she let out. Lack of control… what was wrong with her?

* * *

 “Thank you,” Irithrea muttered unfurling a leg clicking the save button on her data-pad, “Not sure what I would have done….”

Relief washed over her when she looked up to smile openly at her, horns reflecting the low hanging sun behind the hill the academy was at the foot of. Their bunks were placed next to the only window in their quarters, several bars across it throwing dark long lines across the floor until they touched the blast door at the opposite side.

“Just like I wouldn’t be able to…,” she replied wincing slightly at the dull pain in her shoulder where she had been whacked in the sparring session, “do…”

Without her, she would not even be able to pull enough hate together for the mediation sessions. Anyone who had ever wronged her was dead… Just not by her hand. If only it would not leave burning bile in her throat and nose after…. Gentle nudges along her shoulders made her look up.

“I know what you mean,” Irithrea smiled brushing a stray strand out of her forehead, “Your braiding is getting better too.”

Her braiding… Relion had forbidden anyone ever cutting her hair and here she had the longest by several inches. Irithrea helped her occasionally, but she needed to learn it by herself. One day no one would be around to help her and a Sith always could do everything alone. Though, she had only been practicing a week and strands still fell out occasionally.

“You know you can just cut it off,” Irithrea chuckled sliding off her bunk landing silently at the bottom.

No! She pouted down setting her own datapad next to her after locking it. No scissors or razors near her!

“Alright,” Irithrea laughed loudly now, “Come here, I will redo it before we need to turn up for dinner.”

“And have Reah glare holes into our backs?” she quipped sliding down to Irithrea’s bunk where she already sat cross-legged.

“And skip dinner?” Irithrea raised an eyebrow in her direction, disbelief floated briefly against her nose.

True… her stomach growled loudly in response. It was so strange not being hungry for days before being thrown a scrap from the table. In the morning, mid-day and then in the evening. So much… she could barely eat everything they slapped on her plate!

“See your stomach agrees with me,” Irithrea smirked motioning for her to turn around, “Reah is just jealous,” she then whispered conspiratorially into her ear when she settled on the red blanket, back turned to her, “her feather actually shook today!”

Oh! The mighty Pureblood was not perfect? The shock! Irithrea’s fingers brushed through her hair now, loosening a braid now. Sighing, she closed her eyes at the gentle tugging against her scalp. Almost like her mother… no visions, nothing behind her eyelids. Her shoulders sacked down, tension fleeing her neck when a strand got pulled up

“That was why she was in such a mood in sparring today?” she snorted folding her hands now, cold fingertips brushing against her bruised knuckles.

“If you can even call it a mood,” Irithrea giggled back, twisting more strands, “Temper tantrum summarizes it better.”

Laughter bubbled up from her chest, and she had to press both of her hands against her mouth to prevent it bursting out. So that was why there are been the waves of raging anger and steely hot determination hitting her spine whenever Reah was near her. Poor Zolaen, his bruises will be massive by tonight, if the twinges of sharp pain along her arms were any indication when they had left the training area.

Warmth flooded through her fingers when Irithrea tucked the last braid into the pile on her head and patted her right shoulder. Just as she slid off the bunk to walk with her to the mess hall downstairs, the long shadows of the bunk beds flickered. Almost blended together to a single mass of black slithering along the wall. But then she was in the corridor, door closing behind her. After the thud them closing, her chest deflated. Relief pushing out all the air in her lungs.

Irithrea looked at her, confusion shining brightly in her eyes. No one but her saw this… and Irithrea already feared it deep down, the shimmer of blue ice cold fear whenever she noticed that she had seen something. No. This was hers alone to suffer through. Shaking her head, she walked past Irithrea who after a moment of hesitation before following her down.

They’d be gone when they would return for their alloted sleeping hours. Eight hours of mandatory sleep where overseers would patrol the corridors, their presences weighing heavily on her chest whenever they walked past their door. Disrupting her meager push against them in the waning moments before sleep took her.

* * *

 

But they were not gone when they all returned, tired and droopy eyes from the heavy meal they had been given. Though, the yellow light of the overhead lights beat them into the far corners of the room. Their presence still pricked, at the back of her neck, raising the hair on it sending shivers all over her body. Was her control waning so much? Was her hate towards Relion no longer enough too keep the Force at bay?

Once the lights were switched off on the dot on the specified time, she was huddled deeply into her blankets. Its heavy fabric tucked underneath her chin and around her neck like a cocoon. No one could touch her like this… the cold touch of the fingers on her neck vanished. Comfortable heat settling in her back and through to her stomach, as she turned to look at the door that was dimly illuminated by the moon. Everything was gray and black.

 _Listen_ ….  
The whispers, they were back. No no no, please she was doing what they asked! What more?

Her stomach cramped up, the smell of the beans they had back in her nose. Sour and she had to gag at foulness. Shrinking further into her blanket, there was a sudden movement in the corner of her eye. On the ceiling. Pressing her face fully into the pillow, she felt ice dropping into her ears. Trickling down and through her skull, digging into her head.  
Look closer…

No! Leave her alone!

Air ghosted across her neck, through the mass of hair piled on top of her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she curled her fists underneath the pillow. Another wave of air and then… silence. Until a rattling breath was sucked in above her.  
_Listen… you are the only one who can_.

Go away! Let her sleep!  
Ice frosted over her nose, like a hand stroking over her face. Sucking out any heat, leaving her a shivering mess underneath a blanket that felt like a stone pressing her down. Not even her fingers could twitch. Heart pounding in her ears, her chest constricted painfully until she could no longer breathe.

 _Beware! Same…will… happen_ …  
A hand clutched her shoulder, fingers digging into the thin night tunic she had been given. Nails driving into her skin, when another ice-cold breath wafted over her cheek. The rushing in her ears grew so loud that bile flooded into her nose leaving a searing trail down her throat and lungs. Desperation stabbed down her skull, the finger shaking her shoulders now.

 _Stabbed… betrayal_ …  
A different voice, more female, hissing in her ears just as a breeze blew over pulling the blanket down her back.

 _Get out! Seek warmth_!  
The whisper, one who was her very own. Get out… yes, her fingers twitched violently. Freezing still, she swung her legs out, face still pressed into the pillow. They were hovering around yet, the fingers still on her shoulders. Shades, all they were. There was nothing they could do with and against her. Warmth, seek warmth. She slid down, feeling the weight of legs pulling her down. For a moment she was in free fall, the fingers losing their grip. Vicious and desperate howling screeched through her head until she landed. Knees impacting harshly onto the floor, her palms slapping onto the floor.

Out! She had to get out! Scrambling to her feet, she stumbled towards the door. Insistent nudges along her spine and shoulders, near shoving when her legs locked up suddenly.

Wait! Despair seized her heart, squeezing it until she fell against the wall. Close to the door. If she stretched out her hand, her palm would lie flat against the door. Locked, the doors were locked.  
She was not going to stay here! Not with the shades!

Seek warmth. Her head hurt when the scream echoed in her skull. Wincing she grasped her head when the fingers clutched around her neck.

 _Listen_!  
Let go! She would get out of this. Suddenly her hands were in front of her, pushing herself off from the wall with her shoulder. Skin tingling with the rushing power, a warm ball simmering in her stomach. Metal creaked when the doors budged under her will. Out! Let her out! The doors slid open, smoothly as ever and she was out, in the glaring light in the corridor.

But the fingers were gone, retreating back into the room. Relief made her sack against the opposite wall, the soothing coolness of it sinking into her feverish forehead. A nudge on her neck, then another on her forearm. Insistent, but gently steady. Warmth… whatever it meant. Eyes falling close she trudged along, the nudges almost growing excited.

Soon.  
A faint warm exhale like wind blew over her face, heating her cheeks. Right direction… good.

“Acolyte!” a female voice called out quietly, firm and gentle hands grasping her shoulders, “Come I will get you…”

No! Not back! She shook her head fervently, eyes flying open a kind face that radiated concern that enveloped her then and there. A servant, the light gray marking her as one of the staff that always flitted around in the background.

 _Mother_?

“I see,” the woman — not her mother — smiled pulling her closer, “Come. I know just what you need.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imperial propaganda disguised as a fairy tale to chase away the monsters underneath the bed. No beta.

* * *

Her eyelids were droopy as the servant, Theomen, led her carefully down a flight of stairs hands still on her shoulders. Like her mother when she had been younger, before… Forget, Overseer Phremon had sneered one night, forget she ever existed. For once no shadows, no cold seeping around the corners or through cracks in the tiles. Only her and Theomen, no one lingering close around with their eyes glued to her back along with the insistent nudges. Even the constant rushing in her ears had morphed into a content humming the further she was guided down this smaller and brightly lit corridor.

 

 _Safe_.

Finally. Her cheek pressed against coarse cloth that moved steadily with each step she did. How could everything be so bright behind her eyelids and not hurt?

 

“Here,” Theomen whispered gently somewhere above her, “The overseers won’t notice you gone for a while. Come quickly.”

 

A door opened in front of her, revealing a large area with huge metal tables lining down. Tiles littered the walls and steam hung above her head, dousing them in a cloud of clashing smells. Dinner. It smelled like the dinner she had been given hours ago, the echo of knives and the hissing of steam hanging in her ears before disappearing. Kitchen, Theomen had led her into the kitchen. What would she need from the kitchen? Was she even allowed to be in here? She felt herself being pulled forward as if strings were attached to her limbs.

 

Cracking her eyes open, the steam clouding her vision. She was pushed down on something hard, a stool by the feel of it, her hands closing around the edge. Metal, cool and grounding when she blinked to clear away the blurriness in her eyes. It shifted finally and a round, kind face focused in front of her. Brown eyes crinkled in a large smile as Theomen pressed a mug into her clammy hands. Comfort settled around her like a blanket and she closed her fingers around the cup tightly. Heat pushing into her fingers, rooting her mind to it. No shadows here. Just her, the light and this kindness that hummed around her.

 

“Drink,” Theomen encouraged, sitting down beside with her own mug, “It will help you sleep later.”

 

Help her sleep? Frowning up, she looked at the white streaks in Theomen’s hair. What did that mean? But no tugging on her mind, no prickling along her spine in the midst of this warm haze. Nothing. Safe.

 

“Just Nerf milk,” Theomen smiled stroking the top of her head, “calms nerves. Especially after nightmares.”

 

Nightmare? That had not been a nightmare! Those were real things lurking outside this room! How would drinking milk help her in any way? What she needed was something else! She didn’t know what! But what would a servant know? But her stomach had uncurled itself finally, the smell making it growl. Maybe, Theomen had the right hunch here… nipping at it she felt herself warming up from within. Limbs heavy now, any flightiness fled from her. Letting herself sack against the woman, she could finally pretend that the last week had never happened. That this was her mother who was rocking her lightly so long ago.

 

“I have children of my own,” Theomen suddenly spoke her hands holding her around her shoulders, “They are all grown now serving the Empire in their own way. But they all were like you once. Scared of the night and its monsters. Do you want to hear the tale I always told them when they came to me?”

 

Her mother was here? That tilt in Theomen’s voice, it was so much like her mother’s! A hand ghosted over her forehead, her skin prickling at the familiar touch. A slight nudge on her shoulder blade. But the hands holding her upright had not moved. She felt herself nodding, burying her nose in the big folds in Theomen’s tunic around her shoulder.

 

“It is an old folk tale we tell our children,” Theomen started, “So we’d always remember.”

 

 _Always remember_ …. Another whisper before it got lost again in the mist clouding her mind and the silence in her ears.

 

“When the dark times had fallen on us,” Theomen whispered taking the cup from her hands, “ and we had finally found a safe place to hide from the Jedi and the Republic, our Emperor deigned to lay himself to rest until he would be needed again. Our survival paramount so his strength was needed for that moment.”

 

The Emperor! The one she swore an oath to every morning. To serve and to follow dutifully and loyally whatever was asked for her and they would never have the dark times again where they had to hide from the galaxy. So no mindless one could ever find them again. Until they had been strong enough to reclaim what was lost decades ago.

 

“Before laying down, he called the strongest and the most loyal Sith to form the Dark Council which would protect and stand between us and anyone who wanted to see us dead. In their dedication and love to us the Sith sacrified their health and longevity to ensure that no one could ever touch us again.”

 

Love? Pleasant heat flooded her mind, clearing away the fog and the rushing in her ears returned. More comforting, almost singing when a blurry form kneeled in front of her holding a hand out. But then it was gone, just the ever present steam lingering still.

 

“They decreed that any Lord and their apprentice had to partake in patrols to catch any criminals or any Jedi from discovering them who’d bring death and destruction,” Theomen paused for a moment, grief clung heavily to the arms clutching her.

 

Until Theomen breathed out, pulling her closer, it disappeared completely.

 

“On one planet, there was a Lord and his apprentice who patrolled this forest which was infested with Nexu and Tuk’ata. They wore red robes at all times, so the common people called them the red robes.”

 

She giggled imagining the two Sith who were clad completely in red. Even the faces were obscured fully, but somehow she pictured Malgus and Eleena. And facing down Tuk’ata and their long teeth! No wonder the others needed the protection of the Sith!

 

“This one day, the red robes were on patrol,” Theomen’s voice had grown conspiratorially and she was whispering into her ear now, “There had been a wild, and enormous Tuk’ata, “ Theomen  made a wide arm movement making her giggle harder, “It had eaten so many of our citizens that they were ordered to kill the beast and make sure that any citizen traveling the path was safe. They had finished escorting a group of merchants traveling between the towns and were on back on the path.”

 

Maybe they had these long robes too! Would they swish along forest floor too?

 

“Then suddenly,” Theomen continued quickly jerking them slightly making her gasp, “a woman ran across them screaming for help.”

 

Oh! This must be when the beast came!

 

“The Tuk’ata?” she asked before Theomen could continue.

 

Theomen chuckled warmly and confirmed smiling, “Yes the Tuk’ata. It had been chasing the poor woman all across the forest before she happened upon our two red robes.”

 

“They killed it right?”

 

“Oh yes, they did. With their lightsabers that were, can you guess the colour?”

 

“Red!”

 

“Correct. And they fought a long and hard battle,” Theomen continued and she could see the shapes of the two Sith jumping and swiping at a large hulking mass in her head.

 

Would she have to fight Tuk’atas too should she survive the trials?

 

“Once they had slain the beast, the woman thanked them profusely and invited them to her house where she lived with her father. Alone and in the middle of this forest, far from the path the Sith had been patrolling on.”

 

She scrunched up her nose. Who would want to live in a Tuk’ata infested forest willingly?

 

“The red robes had the same reaction as you,” Theomen snorted, “Suspicious now they asked what she and her father did alone in this dangerous place without the guaranteed protection of the towns. She answered that they only recently moved there to build up a farm.”

 

Oh. But weren’t forests a group of trees? How would one make a farm between those?

 

“A farm in a forest?” she asked disbelievingly.

 

“There are foods that grow best in these environments,” Theomen explained, “The bees who give us honey, or certain fruits thrive in there so these farms control the growth and sustain of our food supply. I know you acolytes like apples a lot. They grow on these farms.”

 

Apples? Somehow she could not picture these hefty fruits growing on trees. Weren’t they all delicate little things? Wouldn’t the branches just snap? Although… the trees surrounding the compound looked sturdier than those around Relion’s, thicker than her and Irithrea standing side by side. Maybe it was possible?

 

“Anyhow, when they arrived they saw it was one of those farms. Still being built up, but it was clear what it once would be once done. An older man ran to greet them, bowing before the Sith and thanking them profusely for bringing his daughter back and unharmed. He then invited the Sith in to offer them a place to refresh and maybe eat something before returning to their duties. Inside, the Lord offered to have a look at how the farm was progressing along to request additional supplies should there be the need once he returned to town.”

 

It actually sounded like something Malgus did! Whenever Eleena had asked him or didn’t, but the thought had been there, he’d be carrying the thing over.

 

“His apprentice stayed inside to talk with the father about anything they could do to bolster the defenses of the farm. The daughter led the Lord outside, behind the house where more buildings had already been built. They would become the storage chambers.”

 

“Storage chambers?”

 

“During harvest season, the produce will have to go somewhere before being collected by others who will distribute it in the Empire. But once it is over, they are empty.”

 

“Oh,” she muttered. Nothing too exciting then.

 

“Beyond the buildings was a small field, where some crops were already growing.”

 

She frowned. Hadn’t Theomen just explained that these farms were forest not fields?

 

“You are catching on,” Theomen grinned, silent laughter hanging at the back of her skull for a brief moment, “It was strange to the Lord since this was not how these farms worked,” she winked down at her, “And he realised that the woman was trying to steer him away from one particular building. Thinking quickly he asked if she could bring him a data-pad so he could note down what supplies they’d need and where they had to go to request them. She complied, leaving him to get it. Once she was out of view, he investigated the building. Breaking the lock and walked in. Inside, there were people, bound and gagged in the dark.”

 

She had known there was something strange going with those two!

 

“He freed them quickly, and once they all had been assured that he would ensure that they could return to their homes they said what actually lived here.”

 

The hair on her neck stood on end when fear cooled down her right temple, seeping from Theomen. Could only mean…

 

“ _Jedi_ ,” Theomen breathed, shaking slightly, “The man and the woman had been sent by the Jedi to find where we had hidden and convert as many of the people to their side.”

 

Now she shook. Who else?

 

“When he stepped outside, the woman rounded the corner. Data-pad in hand. One that had the Republic insignia on it! Once she saw him she knew that he knew. They fought. Lightsabers clashing, he pushed her into one of the storage houses where a pot of honey was in the middle of it. The Imperials he had saved, they followed him cautiously, however determined to help him in any way they could. When the Lord pushed her away, her lightsaber flung from her hand. They grabbed her and pulled her into the honey where she suffocated.”

 

Served her right.

 

“What was the Apprentice doing? The father was a Jedi too!” she asked.

 

“That he was,” Theomen sighed, “They heard nothing of what happened outside. But even without the Apprentice sensed that something was off. He asked: ‘Why are there no farming tools?’, the father answered: ‘All in the shed.’ ‘Why do you have no imperial insignia?’ ‘They take too much space’ and then he saw the lightsaber hidden in his robes and realised that this was no Sith either. He asked what the books were about behind the man’s back and when the man was turned around, the apprentice swiftly decapitated him.”

 

Fitting punishment….

 

“With the freed people, they returned to the towns triumphantly having foiled the plans of the Republic The red robes were hailed as heroes and if the Jedi hadn’t returned to this day, the Emperor still rests until today.”

 

“Did they catch more Jedi?” she asked curiously.

 

“Not in their lifetime,” Theomen giggled, “It was all well in the Empire.”

 

She nodded tiredly, eyelids heavy again. If that was what Sith were in the end, serving the Empire and its citizens… then she might be able to understand what they were and frankly, even something she could do. Serve and care for the people, sounded nice. Not what the overseers ever told them about. Maybe it was weaker than the other emotions?

 

Then again, what did she have to lose? She would never be a true Sith… so she could try.

 

“Tired now?” Theomen asked softly, a gentle stroke over her forehead.

 

Her head was so heavy… nodding was impossible.

 

“I see that answers my question,” Theomen chuckled, “Come, the overseers will have noticed you missing by now.”

 

Suddenly there was an arm underneath her knees, gone from her shoulders lifting her up. The haze was back, bright and warm still. Quiet and quick footsteps and she could feel herself swaying in the rhythm of each. Steady breathing wafted over her face and then… they were out of the heated kitchen, back outside. Where the cold seeped into the outer layers of her skin.

 

Silence… no whispering… no flickering of shades in the back of her eyelids. Somehow her limbs lost all strength and all tension left her shoulders. Free… that was what she felt. Utterly free.

 

Until a dissonance rang through the air, like a clash of metal against metal. But she had no strength to even twitch. Let them find her, there was no going back either way.

 

“Overseer Phremon,” Theomen called out when a slight prick prodded at the side of her neck that was not against Theomen’s chest, “I have found her sleepwalking.”

 

“I see,” Phremon remarked snidely before his tone softened considerable, “I will take her from here.”

 

It was strange hearing him talk like that.

 

“Yes, Overseer,” Theomen shifted her, hard gauntlets gripping at her now.

 

For once the coldness that always came with him did not hurt. Sleep took over and she could no longer feel being carefully put back into her bunk.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to write, but I am now as far as chapter 6. Still need to rework a few plot points, but chapter 4 is ready for editing now. 
> 
> The flower theme is based on this post by Fluffynexu (who has great world building posts on swtor) [Fluffynexu's post](http://fluffynexu.tumblr.com/post/180334249617/bloom-feast) I have not taken everything from her post, but the general importance and symbols of flowers in the Empire has been directly inspired by this.

* * *

“So…,” Irithrea chewed on her bottom lip. “What was the name of this policy after the arrival on Dromund Kaas?”

Edenye looked up from the small ball she kept hovering above her palm. A tiny cramp shot through her fingers into her wrist when her hold on it wavered and fell a bit towards her palm. Sighing, she flexed her wrist and wiggled her fingers. Using the Force while focusing on something else, she had not mastered that quite yet. But she was getting there! Frowning, she focused on the ball again. Breathing out, it floated back into its original position… anyways….

A policy… after landing on Dromund Kaas…. There had been ten in the immediate year? No, twelve. She kept forgetting the budget rulings.

“Which one though? There were a few.” she pointed out, grabbing the ball from the air and put it in front of her crossed legs.

“You know… the one who said that.” Irithrea snapped her fingers rapidly, impatience flimmering sharply. “The first lift on the ban of slaves to become Sith.”

No… she was out by two decades, but then again she switched words between lines and rows a lot. All the while the overseers refused to do anything about it. Sometimes it was easier for Irithrea to ask her before having to go through the raging headache that would then pound in both of their heads.

“That was twenty years later.” She corrected softly. “The immediate policies were in regards to rebuilding.”

“Oh.” Irithrea muttered. “Damn… missed that line again.”

“At least you caught it!” Edenye called up, stretching her fingers.

A few more exercises with the ball and she’d be working on that same essay Irithrea was despairing on: the arrival on Dromund Kaas and the aftermath. So many policies and Sith names to keep track of. Even her head swirled whenever they stumbled out of those lessons. It was so much worse for Irithrea, her aching head buzzing incessantly at the back of Edenye’s mind.

“Yes.” Irithrea chuckled before groaning. “I had the first paragraph down, but now I need to completely rewrite it!”

“The question was how the policies helped the rebuilding and how it ensured the later victory over the Republic…,” Edenye mused out loud.

She had to practice channeling the Force through both hands. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the Force rushing to her palm and finger tips. It levitated up. Weightless and effortless almost. She twisted her thumb to her pinky finger, the ball started to spin. Faster and faster, until she no longer could see the small crack on its lower half.

“What about starting off with the first?” Edenye suggested. “You know the one which all the others are based on?”

“The first principle?”

“Exactly that one!” She exclaimed, twisting a hand around the ball keeping it one place even with the hand movement.

“So… the Resh plan? The recovery of Sith knowledge, our forces and then the building of Kaas City.” Irithrea rattled off.

“Yes.” She remarked. “Lead into the rest you want to talk about after.”

Her only answer was a loud groan, a few exasperated jabs against a screen. Answer enough. Biting on her tongue to prevent a giggle, she lifted the hand that had been in her lap to the other one. The ball stopped spinning and… onto the more difficult exercise. Moving it in loops around her fingers and wrists without a single wobble. Carefully she maneuvered the ball between the spaces. One smooth motion, right now she could only do one arc properly. In three days time, she had to be able to do this perfectly. No wobbles at the last possible moment before closing the complete figure.

Otherwise… her whip scars itched painfully at the thought. The Inquisitors’ lightning was far more painful than any electrocution she had ever had! Once had been enough… stars, the slave collar shocks were nothing compared to it! Stars, she had been lucky that it had stayed with one time.

Finally she closed the twisted circle. Better… but not good enough. Only a quick and smooth movement would be accepted as adequate.

Keep pushing.

Another try. Clenching her jaw, she lifted her right index finger to call the ball to arc over her hand again. If she could get the wobbling eliminated by tonight, she’d have enough time in the next few days to make it go faster. It hovered slowly over the back and then under. There was no shaking as it floated between her hands and up to the back of her left hand.

Nearly finished. Still nothing. Good. Releasing a breath she made it fly around her hand to its underside. This was the difficult part: the closing of the figure. Carefully she moved her left pinky to push it to float back up in between. Slowly it closed the figure.

No shaking… no wobbling. A light feeling bloomed in her chest as the ball hovered still over her right hand. She had done it! Finally!

“I can feel you celebrating!” Irithrea commented laughing.

Amusement stroked past Edenye’s right ear and over her cheekbone. Of course she was! She had been sitting on this for… how long now? Two days! This demanded concise control over the Force to maintain constant speed and not have it waver. Hadn’t sounded that difficult when the overseer had first demonstrated it. How foolish they all had been. Orion had flung his ball into the window yesterday in his frustration. He should be thankful that it hadn’t left a mark.

“Of course!” She called back unable to contain her own excitement.

It bubbled in her gut and she grinned from ear to ear. Grabbing the ball with her left hand, she put the ball into the small hole in the wall right next to her bunk. Tonight before lights out she’d do a few more, for now she needed to continue on that essay.

“Which policies are you focusing on?” She asked lifting one of the spare clothes bundle up to pull her datapad out.

“The Spire-Policy.” Irithrea answered half-distractedly. “And how the academy of sciences was built up on.”

“Ah. On all branches?” she asked, turning on her own datapad.

Irithrea snorted incredulously. “Just the Chemistry related ones.”

Four months ago they had been given a new timetable and classes. On top of the ones they were already having. Preparation for the main academy once they were deemed ready. If that ever were to happen…. At least Irithrea had a subject she could best them all in now. Chemistry made her head spin as any law or military texts did with Irithrea’s.

Laughing quietly, Edenye opened a relevant passage she had marked the other day. Law changes regarding the military…

_Loud thuds on metal._

She looked up.

The red sands of Korriban, glistening in the dust that floated in the late afternoon sun.  
  
In the corner of her eyes she could see the red ribbons, with black hair flying with them.

A cold breeze blew through her hair, cooling down her forehead for a brief moment bringing the fleeting smell of pine trees with it. Pine trees? Some grew outside where they hid the path that would lead up a hill and then onto the main academy grounds.

Did that… it could only mean one thing….

“Phremon is coming.” She felt herself saying, a sense of calm guiding the words. “We are moving to the main academy.”

A sharp intake, a spike of surprise and shock before Irithrea slid down from her bunk landing gracefully on her feet.

“How long until he gets here?” Irithrea asked already marching towards the fresher.

Edenye paused. The echoes had been dull….

“Not now, but it won’t be far off either.” She answered.

The essay was not going to be written anymore then. Sighing she turned off the pad to slide it back underneath the pile of her spare tunics. They were moving! Finally they were deemed acceptable enough to be seen with high born Acolytes!

Excitement bubbled up from her stomach and prickled along her skin. Her fingers twitched uncontrollably as she tried to smooth out any wrinkles on the tunics. Though, she only made it worse. The urge to move, walk and do something with her fingers, jittered in her fingers. Sliding off her bunk, she clasped her shaking fingers together. Why could they not stop shaking? Unbecoming of a Sith to be so… affected by this. One had to control their passions to unleash them later!

Just calm down, moving to the main academy was merely one step before becoming a full Sith! This did not mean she would be definitely be selected for an apprentice… More red glittered in the air in front of her. This was just making it worse…. She was going to be selected.

A pit opened up in her chest and heart. Like someone was going to die. Fear gripped at her throat. Who? What?

“You look like you want to jump through the roof.” Irithrea’s dry comment made Edenye’s head snap to where she stood.

She must not know!

Edenye could not prevent a shaky smile spreading on her face regardless. “I mean we are going to move up and…”

“And then we are eligible to be selected for the trials.” Irithrea finished for her, smirking before a concerned look crossed her face. “You are feeling anxious though.”

Edenye stopped to look at Irithrea whose open concern prodding gently at her nose. Asking to tell her what was going on. What she saw too. Tell her? No. The Zabrak was far stronger than she could ever be! Maybe it meant she was going to have a brush with death. Or she’d die after being selected. There was no need to concern her with it. After all this was how the Sith worked.

_Who knew_ … it meant a lot of things.

“No clue.” She muttered rubbing her hands together. “Feel…”

Her throat closed up hard that very moment, as if a hand was squeezing down… same with her chest. Faint panic screeching in her mind, far away echoes of gleeful laughter. Taunting. Then it was gone as if the knot tying her throat was just nerves. Would be good if it was just that.

Soothing coolness flooded down her arms, returning some feeling to her limbs. The shaking stopped thankfully and Irithrea sighed sympathetically. Worry fluttering between her and Edenye.

“We will be fine.” She assured confidently, the brightness of her tone chasing away the void inside. “It is just your nerves!”

Nerves? These were not nerves, but there was no point in telling her. Not when she was unsure what it truly meant. Breathing in she looked at Irithrea who smoothed out her tunic that had wrinkled around her belt. It would not do any good if she told her.

“If you say so.” She conceded reluctantly, her toes curling up in discomfort.

For a long heartbeat they both said nothing. Irithrea picked at the cloth until it was smooth again. The pressure had vanished now. However, the laughter however still clung to the undercurrents of the vague whisperings in her ear.

Don’t think about it.

“Are my braids alright still?” She found herself asking, her tone surprisingly light.

Phremon always looked for flaws in their appearance and if he found just one, he’d give them a long lecture about how a Sith had to present themselves. Anything less than perfect was mocked and sometimes punished harshly.

“I would redo them.” Irithrea said after a critical look at her head. “One of the lower ones has gone a bit loose.”

Just as she finished redoing her braids, Phremon’s familiar presence of his mind touched hers. A violent storm raging just outside her shields. Other presences blinked through, familiar ones of her group she had lived with for a year now. Their curiousity and anticipation warring with anxiety that underlined it.  

“Hurry!” Irithrea hissed waving her out of the fresher to stand in a line next to her.

Scrambling out, she came to a stop next to Irithrea who tugged the collar of her tunic into its proper place.

“Slipped a bit too obvious to the one side.” She commented patting her left shoulder.

“Thank you.” Edenye whispered back and straightened out her back.

In the next second, footsteps were heard outside. Probably at the end of the hall still. Her frayed nerves finally settled and the shivering stopped, a freezing calm spreading from her chest down to her toes. Pride settled against her left cheekbone, like a cloud. Irithrea. Briefly she glanced to the taller girl who grinned openly down at her.

“You are doing well.” Irithrea mouthed.

Their heads snapped towards the door when the steps halted in front of it. Then it slid open revealing the others with Phremon behind them. Anger danced against her fingertips and she had to bite the inside of her cheek. His face was pinched when he herded the others inside who stumbled next to her and Irithrea.

For a long moment he just looked at them, fingers pushing and prodding against her skin, nose and face. Searching and scrutinizing. As always… looking for flaws and weaknesses. Stars, it was as if he wanted to stall the inevitable. His anger burned brightly behind his eyes, searing through the cloth of her tunic down to her bones.

“The Overseers at the main academy have deemed you adequate enough to move.” He callously announced, his voice dissonantly calm, unaffected.

Joy and excitement spiked up from the ones around her, drowning out the anger that had graced her skin previously. Orion and Hadrian grinned, open in their elation at the news. Utter glee radiated from Reah, her golden eyes glowing in unconcealed joy and determination. Zorlaen remained stoic however, just like Irithrea who sported a triumphant smirk.

A light prick on her throat jolted Edenye and she looked back to Phremon who frowned at her. Stars… he could not notice that she already had known!

Smiling broadly that her cheeks strained she pushed the excitement that had settled back into her gut to the forefront. The prick on her neck vanished as he huffed. Clutching the hem of her tunic, she watched as he switched his attention to Reah.

Good, he had not noticed. Rubbing her thumb over the thin patch of cloth, she steeled her mental shields. No one could ever know… Malgus had implored her before they landed at the academy. Never let anyone suspect what she could do or see. Anything would be exploited. She had to be careful.

So far she had succeeded at that. No one knew, not even Irithrea suspected anything so far.

Though… it would be great to know why. She should have asked Malgus back then. Why he had made her swear to never utter a word about any vision to anyone, least of all to the overseers. And who was she to question him? What was a slave acolyte compared to the Sith who had avenged the Empire? Nothing. So she obeyed, the only thing she could do.

“You have two standard hours to pack your things before you will be picked up.” Phremon poke then, cutting through the loud excitement vibrating between them.

“Yes, overseer!” They all instinctually answered, too loudly.

Phremon huffed indignantly before turning around to storm out of the door that closed with a loud bang behind him.

They all deflated as soon as his presence withdrew from their minds. No one here would miss him. Lorzaen grinned happily at Irithrea who winked back.

“About time.” Reah snarled after she had regained her usual distant air around herself.

“Of course.” Orion mocked. “It is not like you are no better than any of us.”

Reah’s eyes flashed hotly in fury that danced around her, but… she stayed her hands. Unauthorised physical confrontations were severely punished. Even an arrogant Pureblood like her was not exempt from it. Thankfully. She’d be even less bearable than she was now. As if it was even possible to stick their nose even higher than she was already doing….

“Before you both decide to kill each other.” Lorzaen cut in annoyed. “In two hours we will be out of here and by then...” he shot them all a scathing look “… I would imagine that they want this room to be cleaned.”

How could she forget! There was no way they would need two hours to pack their things! Every three days they had to collectively clean their room and the corridor outside. If the overseer found a speck of dirt, they’d go without food until they had to clean again.

Two hours… she needed in the end ten standard minutes to stuff everything into the bag they had been given. Datapad, the spare clothes… the hairbands, the hair clips, her very own brush… and the small knitted tooka toy that one morning had been underneath her pillow. Her heart clenched when her fingers brushed against it. Theomen, her familiar warmth had clung to it and had never vanished. The only proof that she had ever existed and talked to her. Her thumb brushed over the tiny black eye stitched into the purple yarn. Carefully she slipped it into the bag, stuffing it down to the bottom.

Nothing would make her to leave it behind. Relion had burned the one her mother had made her. Quickly she pushed her datapad into the bag… In case anyone suspected and looked. They’d only mock her. Worse, throw it away.

Not even after ten minutes, they had everything into small bags and pushed them against the wall right next to the door. Out of the way when they pulled out the broom and mop from the fresher.

* * *

 

Exactly two hours later, the floor was shining in the late evening sun and the blankets were neatly tugged underneath the mattresses. It was as clean as they could get it in the time they had been given.

It felt so empty looking at it from where they stood. So unlived in.

“Strange.” Hadrian commented absent-mindedly. “Feels like we were never here.”

“We better forget we ever were.” Reah said, crossing her arms.

“Something intelligent from you for once.” Hadrian quipped back.

A sharp intake of breath between Reah’s teeth was her only reply. Deep seated anger boiling inside her, burning into Edenye’s chest. She looked to Reah whose hands were balled up into fists and shaking visibly.

Don’t lose control… none of them would gain anything if she did. They could not lose this chance! Edenye stared intently at the back of Reah’s head. For a long moment nothing happened.

Then the shaking stopped. Reah’s fury dissipated as if it had never existed.

Relief pushed out all the air in Edenye’s lungs. Why the two always provoked Reah she did not know. It only brought them punishment whenever they had to stand close during line ups. Cold hatred always forcing its way into her skin.

_Stop_. The whisper had been so quiet Edenye had nearly missed it. A plea.

“That was uncalled for.” She heard herself snapping at the two twins. “Do you really want to ruin our chances last minute?”

Shock settled around the two boys who stared at her wide-eyed. Reah’s eyes burned into the side of Edenye’s temples, prodding at her mental shields for a reason. Desperately trying to find a crack in them to wiggle in. Suspicion lacing each probe until she turned to look at Reah who… she looked thrown off. Golden eyes for once dull as they searched her face.

It was the first time Edenye had said anything to her defense. No wonder Reah thought she had ulterior motives. Though, it was true. Nothing to be ashamed of… she was no red robe after all! Though, one should always be like one. Cheeks burning she gripped her tunic’s hem again, fingers sinking into the fabric.

A hand clutched her right elbow and she glanced to that side. Irithrea gave her a reassuring smile. She seemed unsurprised? Confused she frowned at the Zabrak who only smiled wider.

“She is right, you know.” Zorlaen piped up. “Phremon would take any chance to keep us here.”

“Come on.” Orion retorted. “He is happy to be rid of us.”

“Orion.” Irithrea snarled suddenly, annoyance flickering up at Edenye’s elbow making her twitch involuntarily. “Being rid of us here means in body bags.”

Dread curled around Edenye’s lower spine and now she looked up. Orion’s and Hadrian’s faces were whiter than the tiles in their fresher and they exchanged a terrified look. How had they not thought of that?

That moment the door slid open revealing Phremon. They all straightened out as soon as he stepped in followed by a smaller woman in large dark blue robes while her face sported dark red tattoos framing her eyes and temples.

Her presence was hard like dura-steel. Face cold, distant and untouchable as her gaze briefly settled on each of them. There was no prodding at their minds, not even Phremon’s insistent needling.  Had she just not felt it? No, she would have.

Why were they not speaking? Had they missed something to clean? Something so obvious that they were considering not letting them move?

A glint appeared in the new overseer’s eyes, hard and satisfied.

“Seems like your group is indeed ready.” The overseer said lightly to Phremon, the glint gone then. “Take your bags and follow me.” She nodded to them all already turning around.

What had just happened?

Her feet did not move immediately and they all just stared at the retreating overseer’s back. Only when Phremon cleared his throat, did they jerk into motion. They raced to their bags and hurried to catch up. There was no way that she had done nothing but assess them in that silence!

_No._

Ice crawled up her spine, gripping at her shoulders, cramping up her muscles. A hole opening up in Edenye’s stomach when they reached the front doors, swallowing the previous elation at finally leaving this place. Words formed in her head, sure and solemn.

_Danger. An orange flower showed up when she blinked, blood dripping from its petals._  

Death was certain, like the sun rising each day – tears welled up and pressed against her eyes, blurring the walls that gave way to pine trees – and there was nothing she could.

* * *

 

The moon was brighter here. Edenye turned around beneath her sheets drawing it up to her chin. Sleep was evading her and tomorrow was their first day at the real academy… felt as distant as on the day she had been told that there was a main academy. She couldn’t be tired to slip up. Shuddering she huddled deeper into her blanket.

If only she could push out this premonition…. Death, just as the shades had warned her about all this time. How had she been so foolish to ever think that this was the Force trying to beat her into submission. Dead acolytes warning her.

Stupid, stupid! Only a slave could be so… and now someone was going to die. Just because she would not listen. Stars, do not let it be Irithrea or anyone in her group! The Force was quiet on this, too quiet. No matter how hard tugged on its current racing past her, nothing came to her.

Only pressure on her chest and a knot squeezing any air out so she had to let go. Another warning in itself, more persistent and immediate. She did not care! All she wanted was to know who would die! Just the knowledge might save them! Please!

_Silence_. Please… she needed to know!

Her cheeks had grown cold where tears had run down and she had not bothered to wipe them away.

When she fell asleep she did not know, one moment to another she was asleep.

Until the sound of a nail being forcibly dragged on steel ripped her out.

Something was over her head, the air stickily hot when she sucked in a breath. Her nose brushed against fabric that was pressed down hard on both sides of her head.

It felt like hands and a sick joy seeped through, needling and stabbing her mental shields.

Someone was sitting on her, robbing her of any breath she might be able to suck through… pushing her blanket over her face.

_Fight_!

She jerked, but the person on top of her merely pressed down harder at her struggle. As if she had hit them with a feather.

A whimper escaped her when only her legs kicked out. Useless and hitting nothing.

Why had she not seen it?!

Let her breathe!

Please….

Was this how she was going to die? Was this what the Force had been trying to tell her?

Terror spiked through the back of her head, through her shields and out. Groaning she squeezed her eyes tighter shut. The others had woken up. Low, muffled screaming drowning out the sounds of her own struggling against whoever sat on top of her.

_Fight_!

How?!

“So.” A voice suddenly spoke up, smug and twisted delight vibrating underneath every word. “They finally let the traitors’ daughter into the main academy.”

Traitor? Daugher? Who?

A muffled protest wiggled through the noise of the others struggling.

Reah? A traitor? How?

The voice… it sounded like a male talking. But something in her strung tight when he paused, letting silence fall over them. He was not alone, as several giggles filled his silence. Almost as if the very air mocked them in their helplessness.

Air. She needed to breathe! Everything was too hot! Everything was wrong. Her fingers had lost all feeling. Where were they?!

“That they even let slaves and traitors to walk these ground.” The man tsked loudly.

Breathe! A piercing burn flared up in her chest, constricting, pushing out the air in it. Completely gone.

No no. Breathe!

But… not enough flowed through.

_This is the one_.

The face of one of the shades appeared in front of her eyes, looking pleadingly at her. Water rushed in her ears, drowning out the yelling pounding against her mind. Skin numb, the weight of the blanket had disappeared.

Why could she no longer feel it?

She kicked out again. No! Now was not the time. Her head started to whirl viciously, bile pushing into her nose. They were trying to kill her… them… Reah! No! Stars, please!

The person on her did not budge… No… she could not breathe. Not even sob.

Was this the end? Still the shade’s face stared at her, sad now. Big brown eyes pleading… Was it… it was smaller… the forehead gone now, swallowed by the blackness of the night. It was – no -- it was closing in.

Another tug, more determined, more violent this time.

_Let go_ …

Help!

_Let go_ …

The giggling grew, echoing cruelly in her head. Were her eyes shut? She could no longer see; the eyes had vanished.

_See_ …

Edenye ripped her eyes open.

It was bright, green grass paving the way forward, at the sides grew bushes and colourful trees while a clear blue sky hung above.

Something pricked her fingers and she looked down.

A flowercrown made of flaming red flowers was in her hands. Star dust sparkling all around.

The path then diverged… and she looked up.

_Beware_.

Blinking she looked at the paths, one had purple flowers, the other had bright orange ones. Suddenly a wet feeling seeped into her fingers and she looked down again. Blood dripped from the crown’s petals onto the ground, running in small streams towards the two paths.

Mocking laughter echoing all around.

Twisted, bloody bodies piled where the paths diverged.

Those big brown eyes were staring back at her. Lifeless and accusatory.

A figure clad in red armour with spikes on their shoulders and a grey mask stepped out of a large purple-leaved bush.

_Red robe, red robe, protectors of our forlorn hope_.

It came to a stop right next to her, pointing at the paths. A man’s voice spoke up, familiar but foreign.

_Loss will pave the way._  
Vengeance shall guide your hand.  
Life can only pay for life.  
See the paths, the choice is yours.

Then the darkness was back, the weight of the blanket over her face. Quiet sobbing filled the air. Reah’s.

Whoever had been on her was gone. Only their cruel laughter hung in the after notes of the birds screaming outside.

Edenye could only pull down the blanket, before a deep exhaustion pulled her into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know what you think, what you think Edenye saw coming in her visions and the premises I am basing Sith academies on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first day at the academy with all the other Sith acolytes. Lots of changes and not all of them are for the good.

* * *

 

The next morning was cold, numbing Edenye’s skin when she slid out of her blankets. Fear still clung to the grey morning light, sending shivers down her spine and her hair stood on end. Like a taunt, its bitter and sour smell hung in the air while the laughter echoed in the back of her head. Not a bad dream… this had happened. Lorzaen stood in the middle of their quarter, unsteady and lost staring at the closed door. One that was a heavy set blast door which had not kept out whoever… she swallowed heavily.

“Tell me I did not dream,”  Lorzaen muttered flatly, not even aimed at them.

There was nothing to say to that. No one did either, a stone pressing on her chest as she looked out of the window. White-grey, blank and empty.

Had she seen it coming? The pressure on her chest, the difficulty to breathe… it must have been what it had meant. And she had said nothing… not even thought about it. What good were her visions if she did not act on them?

_Would it happen again_?

Nothing… no tug, no nudge… no whisper. Nothing. Releasing a shuddering breath she turned around to look at the others. Seeking a small comfort. Irithrea stood next to Lorzaen, shoulders hunched inwards. Terror making her smaller, pushing her down.

“Reah?” Lorzaen’s voice had gained a hard edge. “What…”

“Don’t…” Reah cut in sharply as desperation radiated from her.

There was hurt. Reah’s eyes shone with tears before she looked down to the floor. She knew why and did not want to tell them.  

“You know why they did this,” Edenye said.

Strangely her voice was calm, almost like it was not her own. Not with how her nerves were bare blank and her fingers twitching.

“How…?” Reah whispered horrified, snapping her head back up. “No… no way.”

“Reah. Tell us why! _Why_ are you here?!” Hadrian seethed, drawing himself up to his full height.

“ _With_ us.” Orion clarified, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, stepping right next to his brother.

Reah seemed to shrink as the twins stared her down. Her eyes flew around the room, looking for somewhere else to look.

“They came because of you,” Irithrea stated, somewhat gentler, but just as insistent.

Reah stepped back, looking lost and alone. Not the imposing Pureblood anymore. Just a little girl… just like them. Powerless and open. Claws sunk into her arms, begging for help. Wailing at an injustice.

Then Reah sucked in a deep breath, a shield falling in place again. Immaculate and impenetrable.

“My family was condemned to slavery,” Reah explained slowly, rubbing her arms straightening herself slightly then. “Lower than any slave. The ones who came, they are from old Sith families. They do not like slaves being put into the academies… they wanted to remind us of our place.”

Edenye had to suppress a shiver clasping her hands together so they wouldn’t shake visibly. Their place? Always a slave and they wanted them to remember that…. Would they go as far as murder? The shades haunting the dark places in the academy? Those brown eyes belonged to them and they had stared at her. Just what had a red robe to do with it all?

No…. They were just a folk tale. Nothing more. Stupid, naïve.

“Our place?” Irithrea asked confused. “We are _Sith_ acolytes!”

Reah gave out a resigned sigh: “Slave acolytes are viewed as lesser Sith, regardless of race.”

“So you are not better than us.” Orion snapped bitterly.

A sob tore from Reah, hard and full of misery. It stabbed into Edenye’s heart, twisting in an old pain.

“Don’t you see?” Reah half-sniffed half-snarled. “I need to redeem my family’s name! If they suspect I am sympathetic towards other slaves…”

_Otherwise, she would not become Sith and her family will not be restored_.

The rest was unsaid, but she might as well have finished the sentence. Edenye frowned at Reah who wiped her eyes angrily. How did they expect a former slave to not be sympathetic to others? It made no sense!

Irithrea snorted derisively, disbelief clear and loud. “That is such…”

“Nerfshit?” Hadrian supplied.

“Exactly.” Irithrea agreed, solely focusing on Reah.

“Do you truly think I have a choice in this?” Reah asked, holding a hand up in surrender.

Slaves never had a choice. Not even former ones.

“You could have made our lives easier.” Irithrea suddenly snarled. “You could have…”

A hot, vicious streak shot past her cheek making her flinch. Swallowing, she saw how Irithrea’s grew hard. Anger glinting the yellow eyes and Edenye had to lean away. Even too exhausting to feel.

“What exactly?” Reah snapped, tearing her hands from her face and stared angrily at Irithrea. “I don’t know what you have been hearing in our lessons!”

“Enlighten us.” Irithrea mocked, stemming both hands at her waist. “I am waiting.”

Reah recoiled, her eyes flying to everyone. Slight tugs for help on Edenye’s shoulder. But what was she supposed to do? Did she expect her to be sympathetic? Did she truly expect them to understand? After all the snide remarks that they could never be truly Sith. Now they knew that she couldn’t be either? The air had grown hot and stifling. It made breathing hard.

“You owe us an explanation,” Edenye said.

Reah deflated, resignation sinking into her posture. “I…” – she stammered – “Sith can’t be seen relying on anyone else to prop them up, you know that. It means weakness and if I do they’ll kill…” She stopped, nostrils flaring and she pinched her mouth shut tightly.

An ache pulsated in Edenye’s chest. Felt old and still ongoing. Kill someone? Someone close to her? She felt… pity for Reah who still fought for composure in front of them. But she understood. Her own anger was gone, its rigidness fleeing from her spine.

Irithrea huffed, teeth bared in disgust. “Welcome to our hell.”

Edenye blinked at Irithrea’s fury blasting into her face. How had she not caught what Reah just said? Before however she could open her mouth, Hadrian spoke.

“We are on the same side in this.” Hadrian shook his head, disappointment in his voice. “Us tearing each other down is exactly what they want!”

Lorzaen nodded slowly, relaxing his posture and released a long sigh.

“Explain.” Irithrea hissed her glare now directed at Hadrian.

“Reah is right you know.” He pointed out. “We are their rivals now and if we eliminate each other, they have to do no work _and_ get to watch. You of all of us should know, Iri.”

Irithrea flinched and deflated, guilt dousing out her simmering fury. Eyes duller, she looked to Edenye. Asking what she thought. But what were her thoughts? Her head was empty and no words were forming. Reah had been the overseers’ favourite. Over them all, even putting them down to elevate her. Now that she told them all of this… had that been a warning to Reah all this time? To keep doing what they wanted her to.

That was the truth. No dissonance in what Reah had said and her tone. Why punish her? Weren’t they all in this together from now on?

“We should let it go.” She said carefully, staring straight at Irithrea whose eyes widened. “Hadrian is right.”

Irithrea went still and silent as did the others. Uncomfortable, the tension not really gone but it was diffusing into the ceiling and floor.

“We need to focus on not falling behind.” Lorzaen then spoke up quietly.

Unless they wanted to be disposed of. A death sentence in all but name. It hung over their heads, pressing down on their shoulders. Any failure in their group would be punished, they could not afford not helping the other.

Half an eternity later, an overseer walked through the door. A tall and lanky human whose bright red tattoo showed her Sith family heritage. Without a word, they were herded outside. The corridors were cold with long shadows thrown on the floor. Chills ran all over her when they passed through them. Like goo sticking to her hair on her neck, she could feel eyes on them. Her gut grew heavy. Hopefully, she’d be able to eat something… not when her appetite had vanished.

The mess hall was huge, tables and benches crowded with other acolytes filled the space. Almost made it seem cramped if not for the high ceiling where lights floated up and down shining in a yellow-white light. They were herded to one table where several trays with bowls had been placed. Grey paste-like food in them when they sat down.

She could feel the goo that had stuck to the back of her neck change to slime running down her spine. Clinging and digging through her skin in glee. Tension cramped in her neck, making her shoulders rise slightly. In her ears was the ringing of cold laughter. One from last night, somewhere behind her.

Given how Irithrea shifted in discomfort, and Reah shooting quick glances to her sides, she had not been the only one who had sensed it.

“I can feel their eyes on us.” Irithrea hissed then, making Orion snap his head up in shock.

Smugness drew like a finger down her neck sending shivers down to her arms. The spoon in her hands shook and she placed it down. They must have sensed the noticing and were relishing in it.

“Feels like metal grinding on metal.” Reah shuddered. “I know who he is now.”

“Who?” Lorzaen narrowed his eyes in confusion. “You haven’t seen them.”

“I recognize the voice and seeing him…” Reah curled her lips in disgust. “Definitely him.”

“Who is it?” Edenye asked, tugging her sleeve down to her wrist to ward off the sudden chill.

“Xemok,” Reah said, emotionless and her eyes were distant when they fixed on a spot above their heads. “I had to serve him sometimes when his parents visited my former Master.”

That must have been torture on those days. Edenye looked to Reah who smiled sadly back, old memories shining through. Pity settled into her chest the longer she stared at the watery glint.

“His parents are just beneath Darth Mortis in the Sphere of Law.” Reah finished after inhaling a deep breath, dispelling the glint of her memories.

“So he is in the right family with a lot of influence…” Edenye muttered.

“Means we cannot hope to touch him,” Irithrea added glumly, deflating on her seat.

“Nor can he harm us.” Lorzaen reminded them hotly.

Unauthorised murder: the only rule that protected them here. But it was thin and breakable. The shades proving how often it had already happened and how often the murderer got away. Who was it truly protecting?

“Either way, we need to be careful,” Edenye said, giving each of them a long look. “If he got into our quarters with his friends and none of the overseers noticed, what else can he get away with?”

“Too much in other words,” Reah replied grimly, pushing her empty bowl away.

“Like we are prey in a game.” Irithrea huffed in disgust, anger curling around her tone.

“Sure we are.” Orion agreed callously. “We have been from the beginning and I sense it is not going to change.”

“As bright as always, brother.” Hadrian rolled his eyes, then pointed his spoon at Irithrea. “We need to stick together if we want to be able to be selected to the trials. He can’t kill us all. Although…” – He squinted his eyes – “How old is he? Looks old enough to be selected for the trials soon?”

“He’s seventeen. One more year, but there will be others to replace him.” Reah sighed sadly.

For the rest of them eating nothing else was said. Helplessness throttled any words at their roots. She looked down to her food that was barely touched. Her appetite was half-gone and it felt like she was chewing on tasteless paper. But nothing was to remain on their plates by the time they’d be picked up.

She pushed the last bite into her mouth when another – younger – overseer reached their table. Gold jewellery glinted in her hair, red tattoos winding around her mouth. A sharp command later they were trudging down the long corridors following her. No one dared to talk. Other groups had their heads down and were silent just like them.

Almost like back in Relion’s estate. Any talking outside their quarters had been forbidden. Fear gripped at the roots of her hair, nervousness thrumming underneath her fingertips. She clasped her shaking fingers together, the nails digging into the back of her hand.

Everything was so… large. Larger than anything in the lower academy. Statues towered over them, Imperial banners hung from the walls. The star everywhere she could see. Would they still have to swear allegiance to the Emperor every morning here too? Or, she pinched her lips together, was this something only slave acolytes had to do?

Strings pulled on her right temple, light familiar giggling back in her ear. Red ribbons flashed in her mind. Another whisper clung to all the others in her ears. _Look_!

Her head turned under the insistent tugging. And… the ribbons were there! Not an image in the Force, but in the black hair of a Pureblood girl. The giggling died as content silence spread in her head. What was so important about her? Tilting her head she stared at the girl whose ribbons danced with her movements. Gold ornaments in her ears and ribbons braided into her hair? Maybe a higher ranking Sith acolyte?

But they were connected, curiosity pushing at her to know and feel. Who was she? Who was she going to be to her? Carefully, she stretched out in the Force. Keeping her eyes trained on her overseer’s back, only having the girl in her outer peripheral. Like on an invisible string, her prod shot across the hall. Her almost non-existent touch turned to a blunt stab. The mental shields were strong and hard with a calmly flowing power lying underneath it. Flinching she snapped her reach back. Stars, she might as well have yelled across the room.

Hopefully, the girl had not noticed. They could not use another acolyte out for their failure. Staring fully at the overseer’s back now, the pull returned. Encouraging. The same connection from before.

Raindrops fell on her face, the girl’s voice murmuring in comfort. Words too quiet to hear.

It was gone when they rounded a corner into another corridor, away from the unknown girl. Snapping the connection leaving an empty space in her chest. She breathed out in relief, feeling lighter.

There were doors on the right side of the corridor. Every particle in the air here was drenched in the Force. Dark, comforting and promising power yet to be learned. Was this where their lessons would take place?

They were led into a tiny room with benches placed in a line in front of a podium. This did not look like a classroom. Frowning, she looked back the overseer who pointed at the benches. Commanding them to sit down. They did, uncertain and with quickly exchanged looks.

“I see you survived your first night at the main academy.” The overseer had stepped to the podium, disappointment radiating from her.

Edenye had to suppress a shiver forcing its way past her control. There was no answer expected.  

“You will refer to me as Overseer Zutri as I will be the one responsible for you from now on.” Zutri pressed her lips together in displeasure. “Your schedules have been adjusted according to the assessments your overseers had sent.”

They were no longer going to be in the same group everywhere? Edenye looked to Irithrea whose eyes had widened in shock. Then their datapads beeped making them all flinch.

“Those should be your synchronized schedules. You have half an hour to find your classes after I am done. If you are late to any of them, you will be punished by me and the offended overseer. Am I clear?”

“Yes, overseer.” They intoned back on instinct.

“A few rules.” Zutri continued coldly. “I was ordered to remind you in case you had _forgotten_.”

Who could ever forget the rules? Edenye swallowed when merciless eyes landed on top of her head.   

“First rule: You may be out in the corridors between six and ten without supervision. Past ten you will need an overseer’s permission. Failure to procure one will land you in the dungeons for the whole night. Second: During your study time you may not work in groups above two people. You will need to ask for permission for larger groups that will be allotted appropriate supervision. The third rule won’t concern you lot, but you are not allowed to leave the academy premises without permission from the principal overseer. For the fourth rule: You will be assigned a weapon in your combat classes. These weapons will only be handed to you then and you must not ever take them out. Which leads me to the fifth rule: You must never kill, maim another Acolyte through physical means or through the Force. Punishment will be exile or in severe cases execution. For the final rule which only applies to your kind: On certain days, we will have Dark Council members or their representatives visiting. You are not to be seen or heard unless specifically requested.”

Zutri stopped, giving them a long look. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, overseer.”

“Good.” Zutri grinned widely, showing her sharp teeth. “The academy is big. I suggest you hurry.”      

* * *

 

She had Sith History first. Whole three hours and after a unit of Mathematics before she’d be released for lunch. Sighing, she rounded a corner where the plan on her data-pad indicated the classroom would be. No one from her group would be in any of her classes. Neither for the academics nor for the combat and Force training sessions. Only during meal, evening and sleep hours she’d have space to be around them. Like it had been deliberate. Zutri’s lazily smug smile had been proof enough. But they were powerless against her.

Room 903… where was it? She slowed down, looking at the numbers beside each door. A group of acolytes lingered at the far end of the corridor, with their backs turned to her. Their chatter too low for her to hear. Curious fingers tapped on her nose as a bout of giggles overlaid the chatter. Were they talking about her?

Ignore it. As long as she played dumb, nothing would happen. After a few more doors, she had reached the one she had the class in. No one stood around it. Definitely was the right place though. Unsure she took a step back, stretching out in the Force again. Several presences blinked up behind the door. Ten more minutes until the class started… were those in her class too? Maybe wait until the last minute?

Disappointment needled at forearms and the giggling died off. Oh… the day was already starting out well. Narrowing her eyes at the group which shot her scathing looks, she walked towards the wall leaning against it.

A tingling broke out in her chest and stomach and the tugging of the bond from before appeared. Before she could react, someone spoke up behind her.  

“Are you new here?”

Heart pounding in her ears, Edenye turned around. The Pureblood girl stood in front of her, broad-shouldered, round face with grooves lining her cheeks that arched out underneath her chin with ridges standing out from her temples. Black hair pulled back in intricate braids where the ribbons had been worked in.

“Yes.” Her mouth was dry when she croaked out her answer.

“Temare.” The Pureblood stretched out a hand. “What is yours?”

“Edenye.” She shook Temare’s hand.

“Do you have Sith History now?” Temare was cheerful, gold eyes were flashing with a sharp curiosity that seemed to needle at her.

“Yes.”

What was going on? Why was a Sith acolyte talking to her? She had too many gold ornaments in her hair to have ever been a slave in her life.

“Are you one of those former slaves?” Temare did not seem put off by her short answers, like a tank she rolled over her.

Edenye flinched violently. Was it so obvious? Quickly she looked to the other arriving acolytes. At least no one there had noticed the question. “I am.”

The bright smile slipped, uncertainty weighing on the corners of Temare’s mouth. Uncomfortably she shifted on her feet. “I…” Temare rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you want to sit next to me? I know no one else here and neither do you, right?”

It sounded genuine. Edenye tilted her head, regarding Temare through half-hooded eyes. If she was the girl she had seen for the past year, then why not?

“Sure.” She tried to smile back.

It felt strained, her eyes feeling like stone.

Hastily she added: “I would love to.. I just…”

“Overwhelmed?” Temare supplied with an understanding tone.

Edenye nodded; relieved she didn’t have to find the words.

“Me too.” Temare rubbed her hands together and clasped them together tightly. “Only arrived yesterday, so…” – she threw a shrewd look to the groups that were openly gawking at them – “want to compare schedules later?”

“Yes!”

Confusion flickered behind her, but she could shake it off easily now. Felt like she had a new friend in this place.

As it turned out they had near identical schedules. Except for the introductory Sith Sorcery classes. But it felt easy sitting next to Temare, almost natural of sorts. Almost like with Irithrea.

Hours later, they both slumped down on a bench in the mess hall. Both their heads smoking from equations and dates thrown at them. This had been so much harder than what had been in the lower academy. How had she not assumed this wouldn’t be so much harder? Fool, fool and a triple fool! Given how overwhelmed Irithrea and the rest of her group looked, they had the same experience.

Suspicious looks landed on Temare who shifted uncomfortably on her seat next to Edenye.

“This is Temare.” Edenye introduced her to the others who stopped eating.

“No former slave?” Lorzaen glanced at the golden ornaments critically.

“No.” Temare shook her head. “My family has been Sith for generations now.”

The others exchanged confused and slightly suspicious glances.

“Aren’t you new here too?” Temare asked cautiously.

“Yes, but…” – Irithrea looked behind her quickly before continuing – “Why are you here with us? Shouldn’t you be with the others?” She pointed with her spoon to another table where other Acolytes who looked similar to Temare.

Temare’s forehead ridges moved up rapidly. “You mean acolytes like me.”

“Yes.” Lorzaen swallowed heavily after closing his mouth.

Hadrian and Orion lowered their heads awkwardly, shuffling more food onto their forks while Reah lifted her datapad higher to her face.

“I am new.” Temare was calm when she put her fork into her own food. “My sensitivity was found later than usual, so I missed out on finding friends in the academy. I saw Edenye waiting for our class and we talked.”

“Won’t the others shun you?” Irithrea frowned.

Temare huffed. “They would not dare.”

“They didn’t hesitate with us,” Edenye explained quickly.

Temare’s face fell, a horrified realization seeping into Edenye’s skin. So she knew?

“Xemok?” She asked, her eyes shifted to where the older acolytes were seated.

“You know him too?” Irithrea’s mouth opened in surprise.

“Who doesn’t” – Temare muttered darkly – “He is infamous even among us.”

“What did he do?” Lorzaen, leaned forward eyes burning with questions.

“Mostly rumours.” Temare shifted on her seat and lowered her voice. “They say that he is killing other Sith’s slaves and no one can prove anything.”

“How would you know then?” Edenye asked, a faint feeling spreading in her stomach.

All the shades that had hidden in the lower academy! It must have been him! Dead acolytes’ spirits who hid in the small cracks and clung to the remaining memory of them.

“Everyone just knows.” Temare pursed her lips. “The absence of evidence is the declaration of innocence.”

“Sounds like our Law overseer,” Lorzaen commented drily.

“Is he the one doing the unauthorized murders?” Irithrea had a sharp glint in her eyes.

“Probably?” Temare sounded unsure. “I wouldn’t voice this suspicion anymore though. It’s a crime punishable by death and _baseless_ accusations can land any of us into deep trouble.”

Throat closed, Edenye stared back to her food. No one spoke for a while, a sense of doom floating around them.

“So…” Lorzaen spoke up then. “What classes do you have next?”

* * *

 

Forceball was next for Edenye and Temare. Something she had heard about, but had never seen or knew the rules to. As soon as they were alone in the changing room, she asked Temare who was still pulling on her training tunic.

“It’s a sport.” Temare poked her head through the hole for the head. “How we train early on how to use the Force.”

Edenye raised an eyebrow at Temare who was smirking gleefully now.

“So… is it easy? Difficult?” Edenye pulled her hair into a tighter braid.

Temare laughed. “Not that easy, but not that difficult to understand. For example, you cannot step into a certain marked space to score in the hoop. If you do, your team gets a penalty.”

“That _does_ sound difficult.” Edenye winked at Temare who was pulling out her headpieces.

Temare rolled her eyes and gingerly put the jewellery into their locker space.

“Why do you have them?” Edenye nodded at the pieces already lying on top of their normal garb.

“The headpieces?” Temare frowned.

“Yeah. They seem impractical.” Edenye secured the last hair-strand behind her ears.

Temare scrunched up her nose, the ridges drawing together. “They show who I am.”

“How?”

“So.” – Temare pulled out her largest piece, the gold shone sickly in the harsh blue lights above – “This flower motif is my family’s sigil, the entwined leaves show our accomplishments during the flight to Dromund Kaas and… the ouroboros means that my family has been part of the Sphere of Law for generations.”

“There are symbols for a Sphere?”

“Inofficially yes. Mostly old Sith care about it anymore.”

“I like it.” Edenye smiled at Temare whose face lit up at the admission.

“One day you can have one too!” Temare squinted at Edenye’s braids. “Would look good on you!”

“Should I get there we can go look for some.” Edenye giggled, tying off the last braid.

Temare smirked and closed the locker. “We should get going.”

The playing fields were behind the main building where a crowd of already waiting acolytes had formed. Excitement and flashes of vicious determination lit up like a thunderstorm viewed from behind a window.

At the far end were three burly overseers talking to each other, three boxes stacked to their feet.

“By the Emperor, meet our tormentors,” Temare grumbled dramatically.

Curious glances settled on them briefly, before switching to the new ones behind them. Some waved at Temare who waved back, but no one seemed to step away to talk to her. Strange…. She could feel the careful prodding at the edges of her shields, the curiosity and heavy questions behind.

Why?

Until a drag of sharp nails down her spine made her flinch violently. This presence… she knew this one. With how Temare tensed next to her, it could only be….

“Look who’s here!” Xemok’s voice smug, arrogance dripping from every word.

Everyone froze, some shuffling and turned away eyes. Terror spiked up before it was deliberately smothered. Swallowing heavily, Edenye turned around as nausea crawled up from her chest. Xemok sauntered over, a vicious grin twisting his face into a grotesque mask. Four others flanked his sides, same satisfied grins. They knew that they were feared and revelled in it.

“Thinks he owns this place.” Temare hissed into her ear.

“Be quiet.” Someone pulled at their collars. “Do you want to end up like the others?”

They all knew. It was clear, with how the shadows moved behind him. Accusing, screaming for justice. If she turned around she knew she’d see the brown eyes staring back from between the trees. Pointing, demanding.

Demanding something she could not give.

_Not yet_.

“Five slaves I count.” Xemok had reached them holding up his hand to count. “The rest…” He trailed off, a condescending huff as he looked down on his nose. “It’s fair to say that no one has ever heard of you.”

Silence met his taunt. Temare’s grip on her forearm tightened, her nails digging through the cloth of her tunic. Rage simmered through, shooting hot flashes into her skin.

“Is that fear I see?” Xemok laughed, closing in on a frail girl who visibly shrank away. “ _You_?! You will never be Sith!”

Still, no one said a word in the defence of the girl whose bony hands clutched at her sleeves. Someone should stick up… but… Xemok was too dangerous to do so alone. Not even Temare would with how much her little fingers shook. She closed her eyes. Best not to have seen anything. At worst he would not dare to do any harm with the overseers so close and in broad daylight.

“Think to close your eyes will help?”

Xemok’s taunt made her eyes fly open. Focusing in on her, he stalked over. The grin so wide she wondered whether it would rip his skin open permanently. Hard fingers pressed down hard around her eye sockets. Nails scratching viciously at the eyelid of the purple one.

“An alien!” Xemok laughed loudly pointing at her eye.

Her hand flew up covering it up, shame burning her cheeks. Nothing was said… Temare shrank away then. Who would even stand up for her?

Remember what Malgus had told her. Anyone could be Sith… but he had never mentioned _this_. Anyone could be Sith! And she’d prove it. Dropping her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him, balling her fists up. If Malgus, the hero of the Empire, said so who was this Xemok to say otherwise!

Lightning crackled in her head.

“Everyone line up!” Came the rough order.

Xemok did not flinch, only had a smug smirk as he strolled back to his friends who had already a space open in their midst. Everyone else scrambled into a line. Temare pulled the two of them as far as away from them as possible.

“What a…” Temare started but snapped her mouth shut when an overseer levelled her with a warning glare.

“Forceball is an old tradition in the Empire as most of you surely know.” The burliest of the two droned, bored and dry as bone dust, sparing them a disgusted glance. “It will train your reflexes and the use of the Force. Whoever proves good enough will be considered to be part of our elite teams when we hold tournaments with the other academies.”

Excited flutters and Temare perked up visibly. Tournaments? There were other academies?

“The rules will only be explained once. Anyone who has not paid attention will be punished.” The second overseer continued. “After a first practice match, we will give you positions. Do not even think one is harder than the other.” They shot Xemok a condescending look and his head duck was too satisfying to watch. “Now! Ten lapses and I do not want to hear a single mutter!”

* * *

 

The sun was nearly gone beyond the horizon when Edenye stumbled through the corridors following Zutri. Supervised study time with the curfew being two hours away still. But she had additional lessons, unlike others. Odd…. Zutri watched her as she walked on wobbly legs down some steps.

Kriffing Xemok had thrown the heavy metal ball right into the back of her knees. Had earned his team a penalty, but she had been unsteady on her feet after. Costing her team opportunities. And his laughter… the whip scars on her back had itched like fire at the sound. All the while the grass had rustled underneath, speaking of horror and terror to come. Soon… when the moon would shine on them.

Would there be another murder?

“Do hurry,” Zutri remarked coldly. “Overseer Emfort does not tolerate lateness.”

“Yes, overseer.” She gritted her teeth together, forcing herself to walk faster over her aching legs and knees.

Forceball was murder…. Too fast, far too exhausting and scoring was impossible! Except when she had been placed as the guard of the scoring loop. There she had at least an overview what was happening. Pulls and nudges telling her where to catch the ball that always turned into blurred streaks. She had caught _most_ of them.

Not all, but most.

Just why was she having additional lessons? Everyone else had off now! Was she so bad in some?

They had reached the basement now. No windows around, narrow corridors with heavy doors on each side. The basement – shivers wrecked her back and she rubbed her forearms – wasn’t this where the dungeons were too? Zutri had not said why, except that it had been private lessons.

There was no danger she could sense either, so she did not dare to speak. At least… she hoped she wasn’t wrong this one time.

In front of a wide door was where Zutri stopped walking. Triangles and imperial stars carved across the door frame.

“Go in,” Zutri ordered, swiping the door open. “And don’t embarrass yourself!”

Of course….

Tentatively she stepped into the room. Red and black decorations… dim light and… cool air rushed into her lungs causing her skin to tingle. The Force, it was welcoming her here.

An old man sat behind a small desk that disappeared underneath scrolls and what could only be holocrons. Large robes drowned him in large black folds with interspersed blue stripes. Blue-purple tendrils flowed around his hands that had a holocron hovering above. The door fell closed and she jumped at the sound.

“Acolyte Edenye Scyne…” Emfort spoke first, seemingly wanting to taste her name first. “It seems you have been noticed.”

“It was never my intention to…,” slipped out of her.

Emfort snapped his burning yellow eyes to her and she snapped her mouth shut.

“There was no offence you committed.” He huffed indignantly. “No… you have been requested for more advanced sorcery.”

Her head reeled. Advanced… sorcery? But… her first sorcery class would not be until the next day! Why?

“Your files say that you experience _visions_.”

Who told him? The overseers in the lower academy could not have known! She had been so careful!

“The one who found you noted it and made it only visible to me.” Emfort explained matter-of-factly. “A former student of mine.”

Why would Malgus tell anyone here after he had made her swear to keep it hidden at all cost? Unless…. he explicitly trusted them. She looked at the holocron still floating above his palm that seemed to hum quietly.

“You have understood.” Emfort closed his hand around it, the tendrils and its humming disappeared in an instant. “Sorcery is a sacred art to the Sith. Your power cannot wait to be trained and honed, hence Malgus and I had decided to train you ahead of schedule.”

Her tongue was glued to the bottom of her mouth, so she simply nodded. Did that mean she would finally sleep?

“They key is control.” Emfort had stood up, putting the holocron into a case in front of him. “To be able to see and feel the flows of the Force. What they say and who they concern. And then you can decide whether you wish to have that knowledge. In premonitions or in visions.”

All her choice?

“Your power is unique in our time.” Emfort continued. “The Sith used to have an enclave of seers until we lost them all so a lot of our knowledge is based on myths and the occasional mention in ancient holocrons. I will warn you. This will take time, strength and willpower. There is no room for failure.”

He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a response.

“Yes, overseer.” Her voice was hoarse, but her chest felt lighter and her head was like on clouds.

Control meant power… power meant victory… no more chains. And she would learn.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the delay! had to do extra training courses for radiation protection and job interviews. And I kinda wrote ahead up to chapter 17, so up until then, I have to edit mostly as of now.  
> This is more of an interlude chapter, little plot elements are moving, but there are some. Let me know which ones you have noticed ;)

* * *

 

Once Ziost’s snowstorms subsided, acolytes were allowed to spend their breaks in the academy’s numerous courtyards and gardens. It was freeing and less stifling, after being kept inside for weeks. With more breaks granted between lessons, Edenye finally had more time to spend with Irithrea and the rest. Play games or even run around before they had to be in their quarters working on their assignments.  

Even on days like today. Grey clouds blocked out the sun and a chilly breeze blowing over their heads. Most acolytes preferred to stay in, which was why they were able to get their hands on the more popular board games. But Edenye found out that she had worse than rotten luck a few rounds into the game.

It was so bad, that Reah started making light-hearted jokes every time she had to roll.

“Three more tiles and I win!” Irithrea announced smugly, moving her piece over the holo-board.

Of the three of them playing, Irithrea was the one constantly scoring all the high numbers. Temare occasionally too, but it was comical how their luck was distributed. Frowning, Edenye stared at her figure that was a solar system away from the goal tiles. No way, she’d ever catch up…..

“Only if you get the right die number.” Temare snickered. “So far you have only had _high_ numbers, no low. Three _is_ low.”

Irithrea shot her a scathing look while Reah giggled looking up from her datapad.

“How are you getting on with the article?” Edenye asked Reah and pushed the dice button.

Stars, still low. At least fifteen was higher than the seemingly average six out of hundred she got mostly.

“There are a few definitions that are being explained.” Reah shrugged. “Contract law and how the contractors have influence volumes and how they intersect.”

“Wait until you get to the definitions of treason.” Temare snorted and shot Edenye a sympathetic look. “You have so little luck today, Ed.”

“Someone has to lose,” she argued grinning at Irithrea who started to laugh.

“Or maybe Temare is right!” Irithrea pointed out. “Now I will sit here waiting for the roll I get a low number on!”

“Don’t swear it down!” Reah pressed the dice button and let her figure advance on the board.

“I will swear more down if I have to.” Irithrea rolled her eyes, pressing her button dramatically.

“Ed and I will take any bad rolls you get.” Temare grinned, nudging Edenye with her elbow.

“Maybe you two are right…” Irithrea giggled. “I got a fifty.”

Her figure was not moved.

“Oh?” Reah set down her datapad, staring curiously at the board now. “Are the tables turning at last?”

“Would be a miracle,” Edenye replied while rolling for her turn.

Ten… pursing her lips, she counted the tiles still needed to win. Sixty. No way did she have a chance in even hoping to come in second.

_Clang._

Startled, Edenye turned around as loud cheers erupted. Behind them, near the end of the courtyard, a smaller forceball pitch had been built. Small loops at each end while an overseer watched with hawk eyes over the acolytes.  Ten acolytes had formed a circle, their backs turned to her so she could not see what had happened. Probably just a score?

“The ball bounced off the loop,” Reah informed them then drily. “Right back into the thrower’s face.”

“Ouch,” Edenye winced in sympathy seeing Irithrea pulling a pained face.

These balls were made of solid metal and into someone’s face… she shuddered at the thought. She’d rather not imagine the pain or the damage. Could only hope it was repairable damage. Though, she looked down to her fingers that were still sporting the large bruise from the time they had been broken in multiple places. Xemok was always trying to hurt her during their practice matches. That one time had succeeded and she had to spend the whole evening in the medbay. After countless attempts before. At least the overseers had started to notice, as useless as that was.

Their hands were tied after all. Without proof of undeniable intent and given that it could have been chalked up to an accident, they had to let it pass. Even with his smug grin thrown her way after the ruling, unconcealed that it had been clearly intentional. It had been a painful lesson: rules here were double-edged regardless of how plain the hints otherwise were.

Who knew better than them, the former slave acolytes? She looked over to the table a bit further away from them.  Where another group of acolytes sat together. Huddled together in the far corner near the academy’s wall and they all stared into empty space. Shock, grief and anger simmered between them. Four days ago another acolyte had been found dead – murdered brutally – one she had known from living on the same corridor with this group. A former slave and alien girl. The twentieth already since they had moved here.

No proof. The overseers had stopped investigating not hours after the find, lessons starting as planned that day. But the rumours, she looked down away from the grieving acolytes, they painted a clear picture on who.

Xemok… who acted as if nothing was wrong. As if the academy was not on high alert still. He reveled in the attention. Even had been heard going as far as claiming that weak acolytes had to be sifted out way before Korriban. That filth had no right to step on the sacred sand. Filth… acolytes like her. Former slaves and aliens that overseers would not be outraged at should they die. It had been a promise and a warning. There would be more deaths.

Each night, empty hallways and the bleeding stars imprinted a stark warning in her dreams. Close and far away deaths. But as clear as it had once been hadn’t happened again. Maybe that acolyte that had been saved had been important? Not even meditating with Emfort helped, the dreams’ meanings never becoming clear.

There were too many and none at the same time. A paradox she could not understand.

At least her shields had strengthened enough that she was no longer in danger to pass out from a vision anymore.

“Are you still brooding about Amone?” Temare asked making Irithrea give her a concerned glance.

“It should be concerning,” Edenye whispered. “Don’t you find it suspicious that Xemok had focused on her not a week before she died? His comments? And the inquisitors do nothing!”

Irithrea pinched her hard in the sides and hissed: “Not so loud!”

Edenye sucked in a sharp breath, biting her tongue to swallow another comment.

“No one has proof,” Reah explained gently but also sad when she gripped her hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “You know that. Only overseers can do anything.”

“Yes,” Edenye pressed through her teeth. “And they close their eyes and ears to it.”

Temare exchanged deeply worried looks with Irithrea who decidedly looked to the sky. Silence dominated these conversations. As sick as it made it to her stomach. Choked mute by the blindness by the ones in power. The ones who held the authority on the execution of Sith Law. That and its slippery definition of what even constituted as proof. Of course it would only serve and protect those vicious and cunning enough to exploit it. As if it were the only way to be a Sith… oh right, her turn.

She pressed the die button. Maybe a bit too hard, the electronics clicking loudly and she cringed. Looking up she saw Irithrea sending her a sad smile.

Being mute would not change anything. No. One day… one day he will be judged for his crimes. They were Imperial citizens, they were Sith acolytes. Only, her stomach twisted harshly, there would be a price to pay. _Loss will pave the way_ … and life can only pay for life. Unambiguous and ambiguous, as always with her dreams and visions. Someone who was close to her. Irithrea, Reah… Temare… who? Who will she lose?

That fear paralysed her each morning, at the moment the night went over to the day when the foreboding whispers were the loudest. In the moments between making and sleeping. Over and over again.

Though, the Force rarely left a choice. Never for her. And she was scared, the price had been named and she was paralysed and left mute.

But no Sith could be afraid. They could not afford to for they had to stare into the face of danger and certain death and must not even flinch. How could she even think of stopping this? When the bare thought made her knees shake and stomach flip? Even fulfilling seemed out of her reach when fear gripped her when Xemok was nearby. And he knew that, his taunting jeers and open worn disgust following her everywhere when he was around.

* * *

 

Sith politics was a subject Edenye knew still from the previous academy. Basics, who to address as what, what each role was in the Empire… nothing too advanced. More cultural than academically inclined, though not enough to fully prepare them for the influences all around them in the main academy. Songs and stories… those little references the others threw around were strange. Literature and arts skipping them and looking them up in the library seemed like an admission that she was no Sith. One her pride would not allow her to.

However, the most fundamental thing about politics in the Empire was its rigid lines and customs. All subtle and easy to miss if ignorant of their existence. So many rules and traditions that dictated almost every word in an audience where two Dark Council members were present! Entire books had been written on them. Sometimes on just one single rule. At least it also lined out the consequences of breaking them, something that was easier to memorise than any potential benefits.

Temare was unsurprised by the sheer multitude by it all. And Edenye still got headaches whenever she got another book to read about them, long after the first book had worn off its shock. Just who could remember all these intricacies, the many pitfalls? There was too much to keep track off!

One morning, the academy was buzzing when they were thrown out of bed by Zutri. Blurry images still clung to her eyelids. Black armoured figures cheering, victorious elation in their voices and air surrounding them. Their voices rang in her ears still when she padded half-asleep into the fresher, eyes still half-closed. But the overseers had this air of excitement and glee about them. Skin and bone-deep, satisfied and unifying.

Her mind was still too foggy to truly delve on it. Today was a test in alchemy and an evaluation in combat later. Whatever the overseers were excited about… she did not really care. She’d know sooner than later anyways. It had definitely happened, the echoes too faint already. By the time, they were let outside she had already forgotten about it. Even with the underlying buzz swirling in the corridors, Edenye could not truly focus on it. A headache threatening to pound against her temples whenever she touched upon it.

Ghosting threads she could now clearly see was taxing. Left her vulnerable to bizarre visions where fog buried her in earth and water. Emfort said that it was what came with growing power. And she still lacked control over the most gentle premonition, a little suggestion of what might and was to come. Always would leave her exhausted before official lights out.

At least alchemy was over and the results would come tomorrow. As horrible as it had been, she knew she had at least a passing grade.

Now, she stumbled into politics with Temare, their heads smoking figuratively still. For once the overseer was not there yet. Strange, but Edenye let out a deep sigh, a few moments of respite. Rubbing circles into her temples, she closed her eyes that burned.

The momentary respite was over immediately. Overseer Asmon stormed inside, his presence slapping against her shields and she had to bite down a wince. Blue swirls flickered between his strands of grey hair that stood away from his skull, while his blood red eyes were wide just like his grin splitting his face.

The faded chants of triumph were back at the forefront of her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Not even soothing cold flowing from her fingers into her temples was enough to push the steadily growing pounding down again. Through slitted eyes, she watched Asmon take up his usual place at the front of the room. Seemed like she’d be told anyhow what the whole fuzz was today.

“Today marks a momentous day for our Empire,” he started, barely calm and his control straining. “Not sixteen standard hours ago, Darth Serance and the now Darth Marr have found and uprooted rogue Jedi and Republic agents on Bosthirda!”

Excited murmurs were heard behind her, sheer disbelief and immediate following relief hummed in the sound. Temare’s posture had gone rigid.

The Republic? She dropped her fingers from her temples, blinking at Asmon. So this was what she had sensed. But how? Bosthirda was in the Empire, the treaty forbade any involvement of the Republic and any strikes against their sovereignty. At least they were found out. By none other than the heads of the sphere of Defense. Must be so humiliating for the Republic… to be ousted from their subterfuge… She snorted. Indeed a victory for the Empire.

“Remember,” Asmon cut into their quiet celebration harshly, jerking them back into silent statues on their seats again. “The enemy never sleeps and you need to learn. Since we are on the topic of the dark council spheres and their more detailed structures. Can anyone name the current three heads of Offense, Defense and Strategy?”

No one said anything. Asmon would always choose who should answer. A smirk was now on his face, as he let his eyes wander over each one of them, drawing out his decision time.

“Scyne,” he pointed at her. “Name them.”

She swallowed. Of course, it would be her. For some reason, he always picked her to answer his questions. Stars, she hoped she’d not stutter even with the now screeching headache rearing up still.

“Darth Serance,” she began listing off, biting the inside of her left cheek. “Darth Decimus… and Darth Vengean.”

Asmon huffed at her answers, brows furrowed a moment before he asked another question: “Do you know who would be next in line for Serance’s seat?”

That she did not know. She shook her head and this time Asmon grinned slightly.

“An adequate start, acolyte,” he sneered and she felt a rush of heat on her face.

Who would want to know who was next in line for a seat! Least of all an acolyte!

“One should always know who is next in line to a council seat,” Asmon began elaborating. “For Darth Serance, his son, Darth Marr, is next in line. I am sure you have heard of him.”

Red flashed up inside her eyelids.

Temare jolted at the name, as if the name meant something and then leaned a fraction over to whisper into her ear: “Darth Marr is like… two or three years older than us and…”

“He conquered the fringe systems that defected from the Republic to not be bound by the treaty,” Asmon continued, shooting Temare a glare, who shrunk back in her seat. “His family has been granted the seat by the Emperor himself for generations, after the Flight to Dromund Kaas. Last time someone challenged them, the Emperor himself intervened.”

The Emperor… a chill ran down her back and murmurs chimed up. Edenye exchanged wide-eyed looks with Temare who had her mouth pressed into a thin line. How had a family held this seat for so long? Just how powerful were they? What did they mean to the Emperor?

“Regardless,” Asmon said, silencing them, “We are now going through the structures and intersections of all twelve spheres in more detail. For now, we will revise the basics before I will assign you reading to do before the next lesson…”

Their datapads started to ding, diagrams and flow charts starting to appear and scroll down as the synchronization started. A huge text, one she knew they’d be slaving over for a few days. Definite exam material. Oh the joys…. Every time they finished a module they had to pass a test whose score would be added to a total and at the end of the year for a final. Apparently, they were indicators who would get the honour of going to the Korriban trials or who would be sorted out for lesser trials. All higher born Sith were guaranteed a place, unless their parents or a potential overseer dictated otherwise. The rest… they had to compete for every single scrap.

“As you remember each Council sphere is headed by a Councilor who represents the concerns of their sphere to the Council who are officially the mouthpiece of our Emperor’s will. Each Councilor has a circle of advisors of each facet of their sphere’s dealings. Generally, these positions are filled by their apprentices or other lower ranked Sith Lords. But this is not restricted to this composition. Darth Serance has selected Grands Moffs advising him….”

* * *

 

Over the last few weeks, the winter season had started sweeping over the academy grounds. The grass was dusted with sparkling frost in the mornings, with the occasional white flakes falling down during the afternoons. After a while, the frost stayed throughout the day, leaving the hard and freezing cold during the training sessions. Still, they had to continue doing combat and Forceball sessions. Even when they would slip or slide all across the field. Always more bruises, more openly bleeding scraps… and with Xemok still bent on breaking every single bone in her body, Edenye had become a more regular guest to the medical bay. Not like she could retaliate… that would be too obvious in harmful intent.

She was far too vulnerable in her guardian position for that. Fingers, wrists, upper thighs had all been broken so far. It had gotten so bad, that Emfort saw it necessary to teach her some introductory healing rituals.

Just like today. Her left wrist was sending out sharp shocks again after that last save. Star’s mercy, her lips were numb, her skin was stiffer than metal and unfeeling. Except for any time the ball smacked into her, the burning pain from it remained far longer and more intense than before. Her fingers were already tinted blue. Whether from Xemok’s vicious throw she had stopped or from the cold, did not matter. She was clutching her hurting wrists with her other hand, a faint purple mist surrounding her skin. Soothing the pain a bit, maybe if she was lucky, mend a sprain.

If only their uniforms were adjusted with the colder weather… only higher born Sith had taken warmer clothes with them from their last break they had left on. Temare had underclothes and scarves, even boots lined with fur!

She was all warm while her own fingers were twitching uncontrollably and could no longer feel her upper thighs. One last game before the overseers decided what position they’d be assigned to. What use that was she did not know, but somehow that seemed to be worked into their overall assessment for trial overseers. Notes were still traded around with the two overseers, something that she knew annoyed Xemok more than anything.

A whistle. Then, Xemok’s yell of outrage.

A smirk fought its way on her face, as she shivered on her spot. What had he done now? Rules were rules… and they were strictly enforced on the field. Apparently it had been used for unauthorised murder far too blatantly, hence the stricter enforcement. She almost forgot the cold as she watched Xemok being beckoned over. If only she was not allowed to move from her post….

Temare jogged over to her, all giddy to tell her.

“What did he do now?” Edenye asked, rubbing her hands between her knees.

“Decided to push Zhem face first into the metal pole,” Temare rolled her eyes. “Zhem is not seriously hurt, but he will need a visit to the med bay after this.”

“Well, he should know the rules,” Edenye shrugged. “His ‘I am too good for rules’ attitude is not really doing him any favours here.”

“How he thinks he can get away with his attempts is shocking,” Temare huffed.

“Does it truly?” Edenye raised an eyebrow at Temare.

Temare sighed, looking away. Somehow the higher born Sith acolytes were hesitant to admit out loud what they all knew. Like silence made the deaths not there, just a minor dust cloud over the shiny windows in the entrance hall. One that could be merely ignored if not pointed out. But that was her life that could be the dust on those windows one day. Never talked about, forgotten.

“Swear to the Emperor, this cold will kill us,” Temare rubbed her nose with a sniffle.

Edenye merely stared at her. Changing the topic was not surprising, this was not an issue Temare wanted to talk about. At least not near any listening ears and overseers nearby to snitch to. Eyes hardened in a warning to pursue this further. There was no use pressing this with her. All she’d answer would be ‘If you keep talking, you will draw attention to yourself!’. But how were things supposed to change if no one raged? Peace was a lie… complacency was peace! Though, this was no place to get into that argument again.

“Agreed,” she replied instead.

But one day that argument must be had.

“I think my parents would be more than fine if I brought some gloves with me once I return from New Life break,” Temare prodded again.

“Zutri will ask where I got them from and you know how that will go,” Edenye deflected.

Temare’s face fell and she rubbed her right eye ridge. “I do not understand why they do not give you warmer clothes.”

“’ This is no charity’,” Edenye quoted Zutri from the time they had asked. “The Empire is gracious enough to take us into the upper echelons of its society, we should be grateful and not demand any more accommodations.”

Temare’s mouth pinched into a thin line in obvious displeasure. “But… The Empire is for us Sith?”

“I am not Sith. Not to them,” Edenye shot back.

“You are,” Temare replied softly. “Just… hard to see you being so cold while I am not.”

“You can always give me your evening chocolate cup,” Edenye winked, trying to alleviate the awkward air from before.

Temare would know and understand soon enough. Just took some time. If only she wasn’t afraid of Xemok and his reach either… it would make everything so much easier.

“It only gets bad when I have to stand still,” Edenye muttered with her teeth chattering against each other.

Another whistle rang out and they both flinched.

“Everyone, line up!”

Surprised, they exchanged looks. They ran towards the already forming line, the two overseers standing in front of it. Utter fury simmered where Xemok stood, with his arm clutched to his chest. Little smoke trails rising from between his fingers. Shadows shifted in the grass. This will have consequences, whether tonight or next, she did not quite know yet. But it was as sure.

“We have finished assessments on your potential positions,” the burly overseer, Uthre, announced crisply. “Some of you show adequate abilities to represent the academy in the official tournaments”—He paused, letting an excited hush fall over the line of acolyte – “You will receive additional training during the evening hours and your schedules have been adjusted accordingly.”

Evening hours? But… she had sessions with Emfort then! Given that Malgus had requested them personally and she would suffer more nightmarish visions, she would have no chance of getting a place in those teams. Would have been great if she could have participated alongside with Temare. She would definitely get a place… far too good of a striker to be not taken in.

Sighing, she waited for the overseers to reach them as they were slowly moving down the line. Datapads in hand and giving short or longer comments. Faces fell, disappointment forming a cloud around them, with a few flashes of relief lit up.

“Temare,” Uthre said, reaching Temare first. “Front striker and you have been selected to the teams.”

“Thank you, overseer,” Temare bowed her head, hiding the satisfied grin on her face.

Edenye shot her a smile as well, ducking her head slightly as the overseer turned his eyes onto her. Good, now Temare definitely owed her two cups of chocolate this evening. When would she learn that betting against her was futile?

“Edenye…” Uthre began, frowning obviously displeased. “Guardian. Not selected.”

Strange to still feel the sour taste of disappointment. She had known it would be the case. Why did her power curse and block her at everything she might enjoy? Though Temare had been chosen and she would not mope around her.

Later that evening, once they were all back inside in the heated messhall, they celebrated amongst themselves. Cups of chocolate were traded around as they celebrated quietly. Irithrea had not been chosen either, but Reah had. Her face was a deep dark when they first congratulated the two of them.

Lorzaen kept joking about how Reah was a backliner while Temare was at the frontline. All the while, Orion and Hadrian took turns on bringing them more cups. Until Hadrian returned with a full tray and a look that could only be described as downright gleeful.

“You going to like this,” he started breathlessly, setting down the tray interrupting their argument about the midfield rules.

“What?” Irithrea frowned at Hadrian, halting her braiding of Edenye’s hair that had – again – fled out of its tight braids.

“I am surprised you two didn’t hear,” Hadrian gave Edenye and Temare a pointed look.

“Well, what are we supposed to know?” Temare asked, taking a newly filled up.

“Xemok!” Hadrian was laughing now. “Have you heard whether he got selected or not?”

“Honestly,” Edenye cut in. “We did not really pay attention to him. Also, to be fair, he did not throw a tantrum when we were around.”

“Oh?” Hadrian seemed taken aback. “Strange…”

“Spit it out, Hadrian,” Irithrea said.

“He got banned from playing in the official tournaments,” Hadrian blurted out, giving them expectant looks.

Collectively, their mouths fell open. How? What had happened that he had received such a harsh punishment?

“Who did he piss off?” Edenye asked, hardly believing this was true.

“Apparently he got a kid from a Sith higher on the pecking order than his parents into the medbay. They pulled some strings and now…” Hadrian did not need to continue.

They all gaped at him. So… some Sith decided that Xemok had gone too far now? What was this? But… Edenye could no longer prevent the laughter that had been building up in her chest. Neither could the others. Pressing a fist against her mouth, she tried to sitfle it at first. Regardless, he deserved that and so much more!

Not a moment alter their table descended into roaring laughter. That was drowned out by other acolyte’s around them.

* * *

 

Overseer Emfort loved his tea and permanent wafts of incense throughout his chambers. Both always strong and spicy, wrapping her head and mind into a strange sort of blanket. Leaving her disconnected on the floor they knelt on for their sessions. A state that was dreaming, but yet also waking. That was when he started to instruct her, taught her little secrets and left her to explore. To touch and to hear the Force around.

Then, the whispers were louder, definitely words in a foreign language as images were softened and pulsated gently. She could sense and see the presences outside, overseers patrolling the corridors mostly with the occasional whir of a droid. Sometimes the trample of feet to come was louder. It was like being submerged underwater. No matter where she turned, the Force would be there trying to pull her in all directions in a riptide, trying to show her. Show her things from underneath surfaces of disturbed waters.

A gift, Emfort had called it. Seeing the future, present and past unlike anyone else. All she had to do was to learn to understand. Instincts only got her so far, most whispers too obscure too faint to hear or images too blurry to see. But trying to pick them up, bring them closer, was like trying to grasp at a leaf that was carried by a current underwater. Some came, but those were forced on her. More of a current careening into her rather than summoned by her.

She had to learn control. Emfort was adamant on it, no matter how impossible it seemed. His warning still sending chills all across her skin.

_“If you cannot control your powers,” Emfort had said. “Others will control you. Ones so powerful you could never hope to escape.”_

_“Who?” She had asked, shaking already in her chair._

_“The Emperor,” he had replied._

_Freezing dread burned at the mention. The one the Sith all served._

_“You will never see the Empire again, never the sun or grass. You will be kept in a fortress where his wrath will keep you hidden away until you breathe out your last pitiful breath. If you wish to live… you must learn.”_

A strong vision pushed against her forehead, trying to get in. Urgent, stronger than the others. Carefully, she grasped at it, feeling it mould against her. Other threads, past and future spread out from it. Underneath all was the shimmering silver thread of the crossroads she was seeing in her dreams.

How were they connected? She stroked along its side, sending ripples across to the others. An impression of a moon covered by clouds. Tonight.

“Found one?” Emfort’s voice asked, disembodied near her.

“Yes…”

 “Good! Now make it show you!”

She dove in, forcing the vision to bend to her will that shattered a veil surrounding it.

_A rush of cold wind flew into her face. Her eyes flew open. In front of her was a familiar corridor. The one connecting the sleeping quarters of former slaves to the teaching blocks. Only the dim moonlight filtering through was her only source of light. Soft padding of feet was suddenly heard. Fear bundled in a figure of a girl running away from… someone. Sheer terror propelling her forward._

_She stopped, hands thrown in front of her face. Yellow and red tore through her, tearing into Edenye’s heart leaving a void in its place. The scene rippled, a hand shout out, lightning arched through the air, hitting the assailant._

_It stopped, leaving her back in the heated half-awake state again. All the other threads were still there, too faint and she had no more strength left to grasp at them_.

Breathing out she forced her eyes open, blinking into the too bright lights in the chambers.

“What did you see?” Emfort asked.

Her head swirled at the sudden switch in the direction his voice now came from. Now in front of her rather than beside her.

“A murder,” she gasped out and rubbed the spot where her heart was pounding hard against her ribs. “One that can be prevented.”

Emfort’s eyebrows drew together and he leaned forward. “When?”

“Tonight,” she replied. “The moon was covered… in the corridor between the teaching and the slave acolyte quarters.”

Emfort remained silent, simply staring at her. Assessing until a satisfied smirk spread on his face. Her forehead started to ache and she rubbed it to relieve some tension.

“Good… you have controlled your first premonition.”

“Thank you, overseer.”

“What else did you sense?”

“There were others connected to it,” she replied, sucking in a hissing breath through her teeth. “The vision I had months ago was beneath it all.”

“Hmm,” Emfort seemed to ponder on it. “Why do you think you see this particular one and not others?”

“She…,” she scrunched up her nose. “Maybe she has to survive for a later purpose?”

“Could be,” Emfort agreed. “I will patrol the section personally later.”

She breathed out, phantom relief lifting the tension in her head.

“Do you still see the vision?” Emfort then asked, giving her a long look as he drew a finger along the fine edge of his teacup. The quiet ringing dispelling the remaining rush of water in her ears.

“I hear the words whenever I wake up.”

“Not good,” he mumbled.

“It will be soon,” she began spilling out her deepest fear. “I cannot see more and it is not letting me.”

“You have just started to grasp at control of a premonition,” Emfort snapped. “You cannot even begin to hope to control a vision of this magnitude yet. What do you think you will get?”

“Power?”

“What use is that power if you have no basis to nurture it on?” He pointed out.

“But at least…” she started, but Emfort immediately cut into her feeble protest.

“Know?” He gave out an ugly laugh. “First you have to control your premonitions without fail. What use would a vision be, if you cannot begin to comprehend it?”

She sighed, looking down into her lap where her hands had cramped together in a clasp. Light nudged on her eyelids made her look up again. Where Emfort was intently staring at her. A knowing glint in his eyes and she swallowed. Red glinted in his hair as a heavy feeling settled on her chest. With ash flakes falling off his skin.

“Many Sith fell to the traps of visions and prophecies they did not understand,” Emfort countered sharply. “Do not fall where they did.”

“I just saw how a murder could be prevented!” She argued back hotly. “If I can just… I don’t know… see how to…”

“A premonition is not a vision! I taught you that!”

The very first thing he had drilled into her. To differentiate between premonitions, visions and prophecies. Their malleability, how immediate, how it was shown and to who. So many subtleties and so many layers that overlapped. Difficult to name them. Emfort was so adamant that she knew the differences… obsessively almost as if experience was driving him.

She simply regarded him, already feeling the knowledge settling into her gut. He had seen this happen before. Fear and grief clinging to the memories that now glowed faintly beyond her view.

“I once knew a few who were driven insane by a vague prophecy once,” Emfort explained, sounding hollow almost. “An ancient one they wanted to prevent at all costs. They died horrible deaths. Madness is what awaits one if they are not ready to receive such power.”

Why else would she see them? She was not just going to accept the inevitability of visions. What use was seeing it happen and be powerless to stop them? She would fight it, even if it meant fighting the Force until the end of her days.

“How is your wrist?” Emfort asked, cutting off the topic decidedly.

She grasped at her still tender wrist. Definitely not broken, but it still slowed taking notes down in classes.

“Still hurts,” she said. “No bruising though.”

“Have you done what I told you to?”

“Yes,” she replied, letting the purple mist surround her wrist briefly.

“You are getting better,” Emfort commented. “Remember you always have to fight the hurt tissue, it won’t heal until the injury is eradicated.”

She nodded, letting him inspect her wrist. Zoned out, she felt his own warm healing sink into her skin. This was not helping anything, only treating the symptoms. Acolytes were being murdered left and right, while she got her bones broken almost regularly. During nights she grew steadily closer to the path in her vision.

Life can only pay for life.

Whose life for whose?

_Peace is a lie!_

* * *

 

Thick fog hung over the sparring areas behind their academies. A freezing cold that clung to Edenye’s exposed skin. It had already robbed her knuckles and wrists of any feelings. Her hand that gripped the wood stick had practically fused to it. Heavy to lift, but it would not slip from her grip. An advantage.

Flash on the left… _thud_.

Front… _clack_.

Temare’s strikes were as fast as when they had started sparring. Only her loud pants betrayed her in this thick fog that she used to disappear from view. While her movements were growing slower and clumsier.

Right… _thock_.

She swept their sticks to the side. Forcing Temare to step forward, unbalanced on her front foot. Her lower hand slid down on the stick, the lower end to jabbing into Temare’s exposed stomach.

A yelp. Temare was gone in the fog. Again. Deep breaths, lungs burning with the cold air.

 _Behind_. Air whistled above her head.

Edenye ducked. Her feet slid along the wet ground. She swung her stick around, one end connecting again.

Frustration laced the resulting low grunt.

 _Above_ … Edenye ripped her arms up. Temare’s slash bounced off between her two hands. Golden eyes flashed up. Temare jumped away. Back into the fog, melting into it. She was too good at it, disappearing and striking from the blind angles.

 _Left_ … fog rippled. Edenye whirled away. The stick was thrust from the grey mass. A silhouette moved in the corner of her eyes, she struck out. Nothing…

Panting she looked around. Shifting from stance to stance.

Be… _whack_.

Too late.

She winced at the burning streak across the back of her legs. She flew around and blocked a stab. Teeth lit up in a vicious grin. But Temare had flown out of view again.

Steady… steady… gritting her teeth together, Edenye settled back into a wide stance.

Prickling on her right arm. She blocked, struck out. Temare blocked quickly. Their sticks locked and they both started to push against the other. Raw strength against raw strength. Her arms started shaking, the longer they kept pressing against the other.

Mouth pinched into a thin line, ridges underneath a chin nearly touching each other.

Ducking, Edenye swung her stick low, going for the legs. Temare jumped, evading the swing. A whoosh. Edenye rolled away, dirt flew into her mouth when Temare’s stick impacted just beside her head.

She kicked out, catching Temare’s knee guards sending her stumbling her backwards.

“Hold!” A sharp voice called out.

They halted in their movements.

Sniffling at the cold, Edenye sat up and used the training stick to get back to her feet. Temare stood in front of her, bent over slightly and panting.

“Temare, your grip is too loose and you are tiring yourself out too quickly. Know when to expend and when to conserve. Edenye, do not go low unless you know for certain you will not get slashed from above. Otherwise, that was acceptable.”

“Yes, overseer,” the two of the chorused.

“Continue!”

* * *

 

“I  hate this,” Edenye declared staring down on her worksheet of Physics equations she had planned on completing tonight.

The multitude of assignments had only increased after the academy switch. Always weekly assignments with only a few hours each night to work on them on top of the usual reading for each class. Not handing them in would land them in the dungeons. At least some classes switched periodically between breaks.

“What is throwing you off?” Irithrea asked, looking up from her own geography assignment.

“What in the Emperor’s name does this sign even mean?” Edenye jabbed a finger at the equation she had to work with.

Irithrea leaned over, casting a glance over the line she was pointing at.

“The minus sign?”

“Yes.”

Irithrea frowned, setting her own pad aside. “They didn’t explain this to you?”

Edenye shook her head, “Just gave us the equation and started talking about the distance relation and the graphs.”

“It is a convention more than anything,” Irithrea said. “If a Force acts attractive between objects, it will be negative. Also why we do not have it in the electro-static Force equation, because the multiplication of the charges takes care of that.”

Of course… Edenye rubbed her forehead that was buzzing now. How stupid was she?

“What did you think it was?” Irithrea asked, already half-amused.

 “Thought briefly one of the masses was as a result negative…” Edenye shook her head.

Irithrea started giggling, “Negative mass? You mean a Jedi’s brain?”

“Don’t flatter them by crediting them with one,” Edenye snorted.

“Do you think the bigger the negative mass… they’d,” Irithrea could not quite finish her though before dissolving into giggles.

“Maybe they’d bring up enough mass to become a black hole,” Edenye muttered.

“Not how that works,” Irithrea snorted in choked laughter.

“Well…,” Edenye held up a finger, eyebrows waggling. “It would be the only time they could ever harm us!”

“I’d love to see them try that,” Temare suddenly called out from underneath the bunk bed.

Irithrea and Edenye startled, staring at each other wide-eyed, all laughter forgotten.

“How long have you been there?” Irithrea found her voice first. “I did not even….”

“Sense me?” Temare finished for her excitedly.

“I didn’t either,” Edenye confessed, face flaming hot in embarrassment.

How had they missed Temare’s presence coming in? Normally their bond would pick up as soon as they were in the same building! Leaning over the edge of the bunk, they looked down where Temare stood. Bouncing on her heels with her hands stemmed into her waist and a bright grin.

“Masked my presence,” Temare explained smirking. “Learned it at home. Neat, right?”

“You _have_ to show us!” Irithrea determined.

“Am tempted,” Temare teased. “Can I join you up there or are you coming down?”

“Isn’t curfew soon for you though?” Edenye asked, already sliding off.

“Called in a favour,” Temare shrugged. “And our part of the academy is in uproar at the moment. So the overseers are busy with that. I will be back way before they notice me missing.”

“What was them in an uproar?” Irithrea asked.

“Tournament dates and teams have been announced,” Temare replied, pulling out a datapad. “Reah has been kept back at the training fields. Either way, the last match falls just before the victory parade.”

“But that is soon!” Irithrea exclaimed stunned.

“In one month!” Edenye added.

“Yes,” Temare shrugged. “Anyhow, we are given off for our break as soon as the tournament ends.”

“That three-week break?” Edenye asked.

“Yes, that one. My parents gave me permission to invite you two to come over.”

Irithrea let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I would love to,” she began slowly. “But Overseer Fasmi has organised some experiments and a Sith Lord is coming around to watch us for potential trial picks…. I cannot miss this.”

“That is great, though!” Temare smiled at Irithrea. “You can come another time!”

Irithrea snorted, but she nodded in amusement. But somehow… deep down in her gut, it was as if a string snapped. There would be no other time. Chest tight, she watched the other two talk about what experiments were planned initially and who the Sith Lord would be.

“No one has claimed our little genius here yet though,” Irithrea suddenly ruffled her hair, snapping her out of the shortness of breath.

“So you can come,” Temare looked downright mischievous. “I just need your surname so my parents can start writing the request form….”

That night, the vision came back in her dreams. Vivid red blood soaked the ground of the diverging paths, utterly silent and looming. Imminent. She woke up screaming, patrolling overseers pulled her immediately out of bed. Carted off to Emfort who listened to her incoherent ramblings until the morning. Without saying much.

Not that he needed to. She knew what it had meant.

The message had been clear.

 _Soon_.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know your thoughts!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malgus returns to the Ziost Academy to talk to Edenye. However, that is bound to bring trouble as Xemok is slowly starting to close in on Edenye and her group.  
> Chapters up to 18 have been written already, but the rewriting and editing do take their time.  
> Warning: auditory torture

* * *

 

Spring broke over the Ziost academy in full a few weeks before the tournament. The gardens had bloomed up in a spectrum of colours while birds nested in the taller hedges and trees. Were gardens meant to be this loud? Temare and Irithrea had given her strange looks when she had asked them once. She had muttered an explanation quickly how it was her first time. Still, even after a while, it all grew just louder. Now she barely could hear nor understand what the others were saying when they were outside.

She would love to hate the gardens…. if only the others enjoyed being outside too much. So she was the only one to stay inside. To prevent the debilitating headaches…. Still… she could still admire the colours from outside. Though – she pressed her forehead against the window with a vast view over the whole academy grounds – it was not the same. The only times she could get outside was during the evening hours shortly before curfew. When the animals started to sleep, leaving only her heartbeat in her ears. A balming silence almost.

However, staying inside did not save her from the noises that scratched on her nerves. High whistling sounds scratched on her nerves like rusty nails. Too faint for anyone else to hear, they were persistent to cramp up the muscles in her neck and in back. Today she had woken up with sharp promises of pain along her left arm and elbow. She will be hurt again. Turning her head to the side, she watched the shadows underneath the next window flimmer along the edges. Half-shadows – her physics overseer described them – seemed where the shades lived. There were blood splatters, with the next blink they were gone.

Breathing out, she looked to where Xemok was sitting. Shadows… pain. Could only be him. Who else? He sat close to the entrance, still unaware of her stare. Why was he always so keen on hurting her? With others he was either bored or another body turned up in the far courtyard. But with her? For months now he was fixated on her, all measured. Breaking her bones during forceball, throwing humiliating comments about what she was and had been. She rubbed the fingers that had finally healed from being broken a week ago. The had bets running when she would return. Not something she wanted since they were frugal using painkillers, especially on her. A waste – a medic had sneered once when he had thought she could not hear – to be used on her, a slave and an alien. She had been crying then prompting more snickers about how she was weak. And that soon she would die.

Weak. The tears a testament to her inherent weakness.

Her skin crawled as a set of curious eyes settled on the window. Jumping back, she looked around the corridor. Someone had seen her… had to get away. Emfort would not expect her for another hour…. Swallowing, she rubbed her forearms when a sudden cold settled on her skin. The corridor’s shadows were darker, longer… there was whistling in her ears.

 _Get away_.

Her feet moved on her own and she flew down another corridor. Towards the back of the academy, where only guards and some overseers spent the break time. As far away as possible. Guard’s followed her steps, but they were ever silent. A knowing tingle jumped between some when she raced past them. She just ran faster.

In front of the ancient Sith language rooms was when she stopped. Where could she even run to? Her own quarters? Catching her breath she re-adjusted her tunic that had slipped down on one shoulder. No, Xemok would go there first if he had seen her in the first place.

He’d…

A faint, sharp screech shot into her ears making her wince. Stumbling into the wall, she rubbed her ears that were ringing. Disoriented, she looked around, the motion felt disconnected from her mind.

There he was… How had he…?

“Look who went running,” Xemok mocked, standing idly not too far away from her.

She jerked around to look for an escape. Get away, she had to get away. The stairs to Emfort’s chambers must be around here somewhere….

“No point in running,” Xemok laughed, now slowly approaching her.

Her feet were like glued to the floor. Motionless she could only watch him saunter over with a lazy smirk on his face. A predator who had successfully cornered its prey and now wanted to play. Ears were ringing, a high pitched sound persistently going through her head. Instinctively, she reached out in the Force… almost blindly in grasping around, not caring what presences she clawed her way past.             

“Your friends abandoned you?” She wheezed out.

“They do not want to dirty their hands with someone like _you_ ,” Xemok scoffed. “That is all up to me” – his face gained a crazed expression – “It is now up to me to cleanse this academy of the filth your kind has brought.”

His voice was too loud. Someone must have heard them! It would be her only chance right now.

“I am not filth,” she managed to grit out and finally her feet obeyed her again to shy away.

Xemok blinked at her open defiance before his eyebrows shot up. “You? An alien… a former slave? You belong to the dirt of this Empire. You do not belong here.”

The pain in her arm grew sharply, she flinched. Underneath her skin, she could feel his boiling hatred for her. Pure hatred, all directed at her.

“Guess who was told about your little weakness,” Xemok grinned viciously, leaning forward but not taking another step towards her.

Weakness? Confused, she simply stared at him. What weakness? The hair on her neck and arms stood on end, prickling with electricity. Cowering away, her gut plummeted to the ground, when she caught sight of a little device in his fist.

Time slowed down the moment she watched powerless as Xemok’s thumb pressed down and… A shrill, loud noise drilled into the back of her head. She could barely hear her own whimper at the pain. Blind now, she nearly fell over while stumbling away. How? How did he know? How did he know that her ears were screwing up? The medbay did not even know about this! Her gut always tied her throat up when the thought of bringing it up crossed her mind.

How….

 _Get away_!

Her limbs were too heavy to even lift, so she stayed in this spot. Frozen in fear.

“See,” Xemok laughed as if he had heard a joke. “Weak! You are weak and I will not let you doom the Empire.”

She snarled, while her hands flew up to clutch at her ears that bled pure pain. That movement prompted another sick smile and he pressed on the button again. This time the sound slammed through her, throwing her off balance. Even with her hands in between… it was as if they weren’t even there. Vision narrowed down to only his wide triumphant grin. She squeezed her eyes shut. So hard that colours exploded behind her eyelids.

No…. Open!

It was impossible to lift, only a bare slit opened up. Xemok’s shape floated blurrily somewhere in front of her. Had he gotten closer? His hand was too close to her, the device tauntingly just underneath her nose. 

Another screech.

Her vision went all black. Where was her own head?

A hand was on her. Touching, crawling all over her skin. She was unable to rip her hands away from her ears that were on fire. Like glued to it and she had to bite her lip hard to not scream. Her stomach roiled viciously when fingers made contact with bare skin.

“I cannot hurt you too much.”

What… Her head hit something hard, all feeling fled her body then. But the fingers… they remained. Gripping at her, nails dug in leaving burning trails. Disgust squirmed in her gut, pushing bile into her throat. Under her clothes….!

Any scream, it was stuck in her chest.

Let her go!

Paralysed, she was like a stone sinking in water.

“You do not deserve your name.”

What name?

The fingers were gone. Relief flooded….

Shove. Air whistled in her airs. She could sense her falling down… and down.

A crack. Pain like no other. All went black.

* * *

 

Muffled voices reached her first truly conscious moment. Her mind felt like it was wrapped in cotton, any thought too fleeting to grasp for too long.

“Her progress is good,” she heard Emfort’s voice say. “My search through any records is not yielding much and you know my access isn’t vast.”

A long pause. Sleep…. Exhaustion and the dullness of painkillers trying to overwhelm her again.

“Are there persistent ones?”

Heat washed over her at this new voice. That voice… she… the thread escaped her still feebly awakening mind. She knew who….

Malgus. Asking about her?

“Yes,” Emfort was speaking again. “Worrying ones too. I fear she will grasp for power faster than she can handle at this moment.”

“What kind?”

“Loss, vengeance…”Emfort trailed off into a nonsensical noise.

Worry flared up along her arms and shoulders. Nudging along until it found her nose, like a tease from Eleena to get her attention when it had strayed. Prodding to wake her up, but she could not. Sleep, sleep would be sweet. Painkillers? An itch shot up her right arm while from the elbow down it felt numb.

“The overseers do not want acolytes to bother me,” Malgus spoke. “Right now…”

“I don’t think she is in the right space to truly listen to you…”

Listen?  Important? Must be… if Malgus himself sought her out. She must wake up!

“Tomorrow will be even worse. I will be besieged by Sith who want me to take their spawn as an apprentice,” Malgus spat.

“You could slip away for one match as you have done before,” Emfort said. “Surely….”

“I could….”

She breathed in.

“… Locked in the academy.”

“Why do you want to talk to her? You were never interested in any acolytes you have found.”

“You know why.”

“A bit late…,” Emfort’s voice was snide. “… done from the very beginning.”

 Nothing, or more… there were noises, the sound of voices, but they made no sense.

“Not good for any of us… happening… do it now.”

“Return before missed….”

“Will tell her.”

Silence reigned over her then, pressing down on her limbs. Until a hand shook her shoulder a bit. Enough to rock her back to consciousness.

“I know you heard most,” Emfort was whispering. “You must swear to me that you will be in the gardens tomorrow.”

All she could manage was a strained exhale.

No answer, but not a moment later a cold glass bottle was forced between her lips. A liquid went down her throat, a hot sheen spreading from it. Lulling her head back into this cloudy state where thoughts were all fluff balls, too soft and flighty. Not a moment later they had fled leaving her asleep.

* * *

 

She woke to a starry night. White spots blinked in the black side and she turned her head to the side. Starry night skies all around her. Until… they started to move, dots blurred forming white streaks across her vision. Was she spinning or everything around? Her head lolled to the side and could feel her body tilt. There was nothing underneath her, no ground, nothing to fall on. Floating through nothing, she no longer knew where up or down was. Did being in space feel like this?

Blue, orange stars, she could see them now, they all grew… larger and larger until a few pulsated. Then white-blue-orange-yellow explosions burst the darkness into colour. More did, some faded. The blackness was now gone….

Until spots of pure nothing opened up, sucking out all the warmth and light. An ever consuming monster that grew and grew, ever hungry. More bloomed up.

She had to get away… but she could not move. Not even a finger.

A jolt, something gripped at her drawing her closer to the void. Ripping at her skin and she could not even scream. As if hands grabbed at her clothes and hair, pulling down. Closer to it, its hunger demanding more. Now it wanted to consume everything. She threw out the one hand out that had been gripped yet. Tilting her head, she saw the starry sky again that blinked peacefully… untouched.

She had to protect it! How? Another tug and she had to look down. Her legs were already swallowed from the hip down. Now the other hand was gone… stark white, wrinkles and brown spots strewn across the back of it.

But then… another gripped her still free one.

Snapping her eyes back up, she saw her rescuer. The red-robed man stared at her, the stars framing them. A large white sun appeared behind him, blinding her and she squeezed her eyes shut. So blinding, shining over everything.

The void shrieked, letting of her. Her hand shot to where she knew the armoured man was where her fingers grasped at cloth. Not coarse, finer material, smooth. So she gripped harder at it and she felt herself being pulled back. He was gripping at her waist, heavily armoured gauntlets dug into her clothes.

Then the grip vanished. Opening her eyes, she saw the man again. But this time they were on ground… yellow grass underneath her fingers, soft and strange. There he stood, in front of her. Hands clasped behind his back as he looked over sprawling valleys and hills. There were people bustling all around. Large red buildings touched the orange skies. What planet was this?

They looked like temples… temples and ones that were lived around. Scrambling she came to a stop next to the man who did not react. Only stood and stared. Observing and waiting. She came to a stand next to him. What was she supposed to see?

The people became blurs, streaks whizzing across the valleys and hills. Sun set and rose, night came and went. Only she and the man remained still.

Until the earth quaked and she fell to her knees. The temples were burning, the people who had run around were still, on fire. Screaming and their faces twisted in pain. Something threw a long shadow above them and she looked up. A large shape hung in the air, she could not tell what it was.

But she could not move when it moved above her and away. Leaving only ashes and crumbled structures behind. Small lumps of ash and dust dotted the ground and she had to press a hand in front of her mouth. One that was dry and filled sand. All the while the man had not even twitched. She grabbed at his red cloak, pulling herself back to her feet.

So she watched as the structures fell, the lumps of ash were blown apart… as if nothing cared what had been there before. She wanted to cry. Who had done this?

Harsh winds tore at her now and her eyes burned at how strong they were, tearing up she looked to the red man who stood steadfast. Unfazed by what was happening.

Safety.

She gripped at his fluttering cloak just as the world tilted and she fell, cloth in her hands as ash poured down on her. Blinding her, stuffing her nose and mouth. It fell onto her chest, legs… until she hit something hard with her back.

Firm ground, still buried. Until she was heaved out. The red man pulling her back to her feet. It looked similar to before. Trees grew, died, people came and went. So rapidly that in one blink entire forests and water streams appeared and vanished. All the while the sun rose and set steadily. Buildings shot out of the ground, then crumbled.

Water rushed in her ears, like it was running over and crashing violently against stones. Deafening any sound. It was like floating where she stood. Still clutching at the man.

Black spots appeared on the ground, sloshing and moving into cracks, filling it. Swallowing people who ran over them. Swallowed buildings, the plants and animals. Cold shivers ran up her spine and down. She was shaking, her fingers digging more into the man’s cloak.

Until he turned around, no longer in a cloak, but red-black armour with a red hood thrown over a grey mask. Someone familiar…. He was gripping at her, both arms on her wrists and he pulled. Up and up until they were above ground, looking down where the black muck had spread where they had previously been. Other shapes hung nearby, shades that flickered and twisted in the sun and moon light. Fleeing, trying to rise higher from the blackness that rose with them. Trying to consume them. Nothing like before with when the stars had been swallowed, it was more deeply seated, separate.

The sun and the moon were on the sky, night and day halving it. In the middle, a tear opened up, angry and jagged. Black teeth sinking into the edges.

Anger… hate… hunger… greed… warmth… coldness…

The red armoured man’s hand went up and it stopped. Everything went still. For a moment, she did not breathe. Water fell through the tear, washing away the muck, obscuring the ground. It sparkled in so many colours, gently and brightly. It grew and grew until it was just the sky and the water. Stars were back and the man still held her where they were.

Light reflected, scattered… it was captivating. She stared at how the stars illuminated the water that glowed a bright green-blue. The shades were swept away… their features at peace… some struggled against the mighty currents. But in the end they flowed past her. Some were thrown around, others floated in straight lines. So much… in one large ocean with so many currents and directions.

What was this? She looked down, past her feet that skimmed the water surface. Light ripples going out from her toes while wild and violent currents raced underneath. Ripples that glittered with images, moving, flashes of scenes. All fleeting and untouchable.

She bent at her waist, her body hovering above, the hand of the man gripping at her still. Anchoring her to this in-between. Safe.

Touch. Know. See.

Her finger-tip touched the outermost surface, sending circular ripples out. More images, more flashes. Green, red, black, white, silver, gold…

Green-silver stones glowed on a forehead. Black hair flying. White-grey silks, white-gold lines. Green eyes twinkling somewhere in the blurriness of straight-lined whites. Too bright, purple pulses… and then….

She stood in front of a crib. A baby waved its tiny hands at her. Man, white eyes stood above. Fear, betrayal and… incredible awe hung around him. Making the black-grey robes silent when he took the baby and fled.

The green-sliver stones cried, set alight. Clear tears dripping into the water. Currents carried them to a whirlpool…horror, death and despair.

Revenge.

Fire licked along the waves… so much destruction… so much screaming.

She tore her fingers away.

What was this? This in-between? This paradox? Where the night met the day and the stars outshone the blackness of space?

* * *

 

The sleep that followed was soft, like being held in a large and soft blanket. Pain medication lulled her into a deep sleep that she slowly eased back into consciousness. Her eyelids were so heavy when she finally could force them open. Bright yellow light burned into them. Turning her head, she saw Emfort sitting behind his desk head bent over a datapad. She tried to lift her hands to rub her eyes, but only one could. The other rested on her chest in a tight bandage in a sling that wound around her neck. Not again… she breathed out through her mouth and tried to clear her scratchy throat, it must have been broken to be still be bandaged. Sitting up, her head felt like it was disconnected from her body neck down. The movement made her head swirl and bile rose into the back of her mouth.

“Awake?” Emfort asked while setting his datapad down.

“I…” – she wheezed out trying to move her tongue that was seemingly stuck to the bottom of her mouth – “think?”

“Wake up hours are long over,” Emfort said rising from his chair and shook out the wrinkled folds of his robe. “The medbay has sent some of the healers to check up on you a while ago.”

“I… didn’t even notice.”

“No wonder,” Emfort snorted. “They are considering giving you lower doses next time.”

“Of painkillers?”

“No,” Emfort shook his head. “The painkillers got you, what the healers assume to be, force-induced terrors and they gave you some sleeping aids. Apparently, force-induced terrors is a very interesting field of study” – his eyes darkened as sparks of barely concealed fury at the healers flew through them – “Too bad they cannot use acolytes for experiments.”

The ‘not anymore’ went unsaid, but he might as well have. Last year a law forbidding overseers to use acolytes for their experiments narrowly got passed in a Dark Council session. To aid the recovery of the Sith population after the war. But, her gut twisted at the thought, if Emfort hadn’t taken her into his chambers, she would have been used for experiments. The implication hung like a sour aftertaste in the air. Numbly she stared at him where the ugly truth lay hidden in his face.

“An acolyte came by earlier, Irithrea I believe she was called. Wanted to see how you were doing and asked to relay to you that she is now in the labs and she will meet you in the evening.”

Irithrea? Oh stars, she had additional advanced chemistry lessons… and they had wanted to observe the crowds filing into the stadium before she had to go! Damn Xemok to an event horizon!

“Also,” Emfort’s voice had dropped into a dead-serious tone. “You are expected in the gardens.”

“Me?” Stunned, she sat up and swung her legs off the couch. “Who?”

Emfort’s eyebrows shot up. “Darth Malgus wishes to speak to you.”

She blinked. Malgus? What did he want with her? What could she offer the Imperial hero?

“Why?” She finally managed to breathe out. “I… why me?”

“He has not said why,” Emfort replied, but the easy lie stabbed into her nose and forehead. “And it is something that is a matter between only you and him.”

“Have I offended him?” She asked, balling her good hand into an anxious fist so her nails dug painfully into her skin.

Emfort frowned deeply at the question and shook his head quickly. “No, no. You did no such thing. This is a matter that should have been resolved two years ago.”

She was found two years ago! What issue was he talking about? All that had happened was her being found, freed from slavery, even given a name and then given to the academy to be trained!

“He mentioned a smaller garden behind the main one near the overseers’ living quarters. Do you know this one?”

Still surprised, she replied, “I will find it.”

“Good.” Emfort shuffled his datapad underneath another pile of pads on his desk. “I’d suggest you hurry too. So far he has not had an opportunity to slip out, but once he does, it will only be for a short time.”

“Of course, overseer,” she mumbled, staggering to her wobbly feet.

“You might want to make yourself somewhat more presentable,” he pointed at the sling her arm was in and the rumpled state of her tunic.

“Yes, overseer,” she replied.

How was she to do that? One hand was useless! Changing would be impossible! Re-adjusting her obviously creased tunic would be difficult if not impossible at best. Especially now that the unbearable itch started to crawl torturously slow below the bandages.

“Hurry!” Emfort made a dismissive hand wave that pointed at the door.

Still in a daze, she stumbled out of Emfort’s chambers. The door slid closed with a loud bang, making her flinch violently as air pushed against her back, urging her to move. Rubbing her right ear with her still good hand, she looked to the end of the corridor. To the gardens… to Malgus.

Why would such a high standing Sith talk to her? Alone? Without witnesses? Clearly a trap, obvious as one could be. But… orders were orders. She was in no position to refuse. If someone like Malgus called, she had to come running or jump, whatever was demanded.

The smaller gardens were private ones incorporated in the main ones that stretched as far as the landing pads and entrance. At this time, the plants were going into full bloom still. Mostly green with the occasional white-blue, orange-red splotches of colour shone through brightly. Quiet chirping was the only sound, with leaves rustling there and then. A relief after the door had slammed shut behind her before. No one was here, she realized as she stood wavering in front of the beginning of the path leading into the furthest corner. Holding her breath, she stepped on the path and then hesitated. She was still in the tunic of the day before, all rumpled and no amount of tugging would help especially with an arm back in a sling.

She could not delay Malgus either.

Zutri would throw a fit if she heard about this. How she dared to present herself to such a high-standing Sith in dirty clothes and it being disrespectful. Though… it would be even more disrespectful to be late and make them wait. One could never win….

Releasing the breath she held, she started moving on stiff knees along the path. After a few steps, her body relaxed and she could breathe deeper and more freely. The quiet sounds of the living beings around her soothed her nerves and the itch flaming along her injured arm. Soft pulls started along her feet and fingertips, guiding her down a long and winding side-path. The closer she drew, the stronger the pulls became. The path ended in a round patch of grass that was surrounded by hedges that bloomed in big, bright orange flowers that made her stop dead in her tracks.

There, in this little pocket of seclusion, was a white stone bench seeming so surreal and out of place. With the deep green grass, the bright orange and the snow white bench… like in a dream, she stared at the image. She had seen the flowers… those same flowers! What… her vision, she felt herself stumble over to the bench. But, the colours felt triumphant that promised no danger and it settled on her like a blanket shielding her. Chest lighter than it had been for days, she snapped out the daze. Light danced off the grass blades making them shimmer as if reflected off water. She drove her boot through them, showing their lighter underside.

A light breeze ruffled through the loose hair that had fallen from her braids, little nudges danced along her nose. Her chest felt lighter and comfort chased away the chill of the still early morning. So she waited, the pain in her arm almost forgotten as a flimsy hope took root in her heart. Hope for what she did not know, but instinctively knew the flowers surrounding her heralded it.

The sound of falling snow silenced the bird’s calls and soon she sensed Malgus’ approach, his presence settling against her mental shields. She clasped her hands together tightly, anxiety slipping through the cracks. But there was no time to chew on this when she started to hear heavy footsteps approaching.

Moments later, he slid under the arch spanning the entrance to this round spot. In his usual black armour and dark cloak bunched around his shoulders. Edenye blinked at the man whose holograms were all across the history book sections relating to the Sacking of Coruscant. With a jolt, she jumped up bowing at her waist. As protocol demanded.

Surprise flickered up in his face before holding up his hand that halted her mid-motion.

“Edenye?” He asked, stopping in his tracks.

“My Lord,” she bit her inner left cheek in case she stammered more out.

He shifted slightly, yellow eyes wide as he looked down at her. Properly, head tilted a bit to the side curiously. Not a hard yellow, but softer more like molten gold.

“You have grown,” he said surprise still shining, but it was retreating from his face.

“My Lord,” she breathed out unsure what he meant.

It had been almost two years ago now since he had freed her and brought her to the Sith academy. Of course she had grown. She did not even have to crane her neck as much anymore to look at him. Still the same man standing in front of her. Maybe some things did not change.

“No need for formalities,” he shook his head, the surprise now gone and motioned for the bench. “I only have a small window to be away unnoticed. Sit down so we can talk.”

“Yes, my….” She stopped herself when he threw her a look.

That morphed into a crooked smile when she sat down and he settled at the far end of the bench next to her.

“Eleena hopes you are doing alright,” he said, his hands grasping the bench’s edges.

“Tell her my thanks,” she replied and cringed at how passively formal it sounded. “Is she still not allowed on academy grounds?”

“No,” he sighed. “I wanted to catch you with Emfort yesterday night, but…”

She looked down to her feet, the fingers of her injured hand and arm twitched at the insinuation. Too knocked out from painkillers.

“Someone pushed me down the stairs,” she confessed. “I… suppose I got away easily.”

“Easily?” Malgus asked.

“Others are found dead,” she explained quickly.

“I sense that you know who.”

She opened her mouth… but this was Xemok. Parents too high in the Sith hierarchy… would be best if she kept her mouth shut.

“Your mental shields are strong, but your hesitation tells me that you know something.”

Swallowing, she pursed her lips. He could get her into the dungeons and never out of them with just a word. That had been a demand to tell him.

“Xemok,” Edenye winced. “His…”

“I know who his parents are,” Malgus interrupted darkly, fists clenched tightly on his legs. “Damn….”

She flinched away, the anger that flared up punching her square in the chest. Malgus jerked his eyes to her, eyes softened when she stared back in fear.

“Not you,” he blurted out. “I have had too many dealings with the parents. “He’s untouchable right now.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, she relaxed again.

“How did he throw you down the stairs?” Malgus asked then quietly nodding to the brace.

“He… did something with noise,” Edenye reluctantly replied. “I lost balance…”

Malgus’ eyes squinted at it, but there was no sign that he knew or didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Once there is time, I can show you a little trick,” he promised. “Takes a lot of experience and practice.”

Time? She frowned and looked back to him. Sounded so certain that tension fled her back and she slumped in her posture. Why did it sound like a truth was being spoken?

“You wanted to talk to me?” She asked, breathlessly.

“Yes, the overseers have blocked me when I requested.” Malgus opened his fists. “And given that a Dark Councilor is here to view this tournament, I took that opportunity. There is business I started that I need to finish.”

But… what did that have to do with her?

“Are you happy to become Sith?” He asked with earnest and open concern.

She stared at him speechless. Words had fled her mind as the question slowly sunk into realization. What had he just asked? Happy? Why would he ask… was she supposed to say the truth? What did he mean? Was this a trap? There was only one answer she could even give! Why _ask_?

“Yes?” She pressed out finally awkwardly gripping the hem of her tunic with her good hand.

“Good,” Malgus’ mouth was briefly pinched into a thin line, even he seemed to be out of place here. “I… am glad.”

His face flickered in a deep worry that lined the black veins around his eyes. It settled into her gut tightening it to a stone. Sharp needles poked into her shoulder blades. Danger? Not here… approaching?

“Is there something?” The question slipped out of her before she could bite her tongue.

He swallowed quickly before answering. “I cannot explain it in the little time we have. But I also suspect they never told you and…” – he jerked his head towards the entrance. “By the Emperor…”

Voices, quiet and muffled, could be heard. Searching and running. Paralysed in fear Edenye stared at the entrance waiting to be found.

“I gave you my name,” he hastily whispered and she whirled around to face him again. “My last name. I don’t know if you realize what it means….”

She shook her head, not wanting to listen to more. Last name? The one he had gifted her? His? What did last names have to…?

“My Lord!” A loud yell preceded a hard presence slapping against her shields and Edenye deflated.

A small man clad in an Imperial uniform barged in, out of breath and looking as if he had been running for hours with no rest. Head red, he clutched his knees and panted for air in something resembling a bow. Malgus shot up to stand in front of her, blocking her effectively from view. She carefully leaned sidewards to peek at the man who had sunk lower into a proper bow.

“My Lord,” the man finally said, some composure returning to his voice. “We have been looking for you.”

The Imperial had not noticed her yet. Maybe…, she looked to the only way out that Malgus practically blocked from view, no impossible. There was no way she could hold invisibility for long and all the times she had practised had been while standing still. Moving would be an entirely different matter. Also… there were no long shadows, she could use to convince someone’s senses to overlook her. Slipping into the hedges would be difficult, the branches were packed too densely and she’d have to force her way through. Would make too much noise.

“Who is this ‘we’?” Malgus asked coldly.

“Darth Serance wishes to know whether you will be present for the next match.”

She had to clamp a hand tightly over her mouth to muffle a startled sound escaping her. Darth Serance? The head of the Sphere of Defense? Here? Why?

“Tell him that I will be present for the next,” Malgus hissed.

“My Lord…” the man sputtered back.

“You are dismissed,” Malgus stated blankly.

“Yes, my Lord,” the man sounded resigned. “There are other Lords looking for you.”

Annoyance flashed up briefly before Malgus clamped down on it and through gritted teeth he said: “I will come.”

Footsteps retreated and she kept her stare on Malgus’ back. He turned around to her while letting out a frustrated huff.

“Those tu’katas can’t just have one moment without pestering,” he took a deep breath. “Serance probably didn’t even ask for me,” he grumped and kneeled down quickly in front of her. “I need to go sooner than I thought,” he rummaged in a bag on his belt. “But before I do…,” he started to pull something out. “Eleena thought you might want to have this.”

A small chain hung between his fingers where a delicate purplish gleaming stone dangled from it.  Blinking as her vision blurred, she held out her good hand numbly so her fingers touched the stone. Familiar, comforting warmth seeped into the tips. Light brown eyes twinkled behind her eyelids. Mother? Her mouth dropped open a bit. She knew this… it had always hung over her when her mother had put her to sleep. All those years ago before she disappeared. How had he found it?

“Where did you…?” She barely managed to breathe out when he let the chain drop it into her open palm.

Malgus cupped his heavily armoured hand around hers, enclosing her limp one around the chain. The stone dug into her palm and fingers making her hold onto it. It felt so much like a dream… but the hard stone digging into her skin proving it was real. Warm air enveloped her like a soft touch comfortingly rubbing her back. He let go of her hand and stood up. She craned her neck to stare at him, his face blurry through the gathering tears. Strangely, uncertainty wavered in his posture as he mutely watched her. Pressing the stone close to her chest, so tightly the stone slipped in between her knuckles. No soothing whispering, no fingers drawing circles on her forehead, all gone still.

“Eleena and I went back to Relion’s estates,” Malgus explained hastily. “Relion kept a meticulous record of everything related to you. There were whole crates of datapads just about you… and that was where we found this,” he pointed at her closed fist. “And we found out more about your parents.”

Her parents? There had only ever been her mother! Why would she have needed a father? At least… her mother had never pointed one out to her.

“Do you want to know?” He asked. “If not I can leave the information with Emfort should you decide differently later.”

A sob rose from her chest, loud and shrill. Flinching, she nodded rapidly not trusting herself to babble out unintelligible words and sentences.

“There was a note mentioning that she had schemed to get you out,” Malgus said quieter than before, his eyes flicking from one side to another. “Tried to get communication established with what Relion noted down as your father. All it said that it was a Sith, but…,” he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I couldn’t find any other hints on his identity. Relion killed her the day he found out about the plot and we found the spot where she had been buried.”

“I had no father,” she muttered resolutely. “Only a mother.”

“I…,” Malgus shook his head, but before he could anything else out, more voices reached them and he hung his head in defeat. “I will be found again sooner than later. There’s a question…”

She sniffed, trying to rub her eyes with her good hand. If they were found, she must not look like a mess. In that moment a female Sith stomped into the clearing to stop dead in her tracks when Malgus spun around abruptly. At least he blocked her from view again, sparing her the humiliation from being seen while crying.

“My Lord,” the Sith greeted him, annoyance evident in her tone.

“Yes?” He snapped.

“The match is about to start and you are missed,” the Sith replied haughtily.

Edenye slipped the stone into a pocket at the side of her pants.

“How long until they start?” Malgus did not seem impressed by the Sith.

“Warm-up has started.”

“I will be on my way.”

“I have received specific instructions to escort you.”

“From who?” Malgus huffed. “If it isn’t from Darth Serance himself, then they have no authority over me.”

The Sith remained silent at it. But she did not leave either.

“Leave,” Malgus commanded coldly.

“Acolyte?” The Sith leaned sidewards, muddy yellow eyes boring into Edenye.

She shrank away. The purple sash around the Sith’s waist heralded her as an overseer from this academy. Whose widened eyes were lightning up in barely contained fury.

“Why are you here?!” She yelled, taking a large step forward with sparks flying from her hands that were out-stretched.

Intent to yank her away, Edenye sunk her head. Waiting to be punished by lightning that now jumped between the overseer’s hands that made the hair on her arm stand on end.  Only… the burning grip never came. A choke was then heard, stunned helplessness soothing the sparks on Edenye’s skin. She looked up eyes wide to see why. The overseer hung in the air, clawing at her throat while Malgus had his hand balled in a fist in front of him. He had intervened… she sent him a shaky smile in gratitude.

“She is with me,” Malgus said, not making any move to drop the overseer. “And you will let her stay.”

“My…,” the overseer gasped out, the veins on her temples started to pop out. “A slave….”

Her slowly sinking in desperation soured the air. Edenye could not tear her eyes away from how the eyes that started to slowly pop out from their sockets. The panic sent an ice-cold vein up her spine, but she was too numb to truly feel it.

“It is not your place to question me,” Malgus growled, tightening his fist.

Fear doused out any sparks that had flown around the overseer. The overseer’s eyes flitted between the two of them rapidly, before nodding frantically.

“Good,” Malgus mocked. “Now…,” he unclenched his fist, dropping the woman who landed on all her fours, spit dripping from her lips as she coughed and wheezed for air. “I did tell you to leave, didn’t I?”

His only answer was a fury-filled glare, that was responded with a challenging frown.

“I understand, my Lord,” the overseer spat out, slowly getting to her feet and slunk out.

Her steps were wobbly, flighty when she disappeared from their view.

“Do you need to go?” Edenye shakily asked having finally found her voice again.

Malgus seemed pensive, eyes narrowed watching her. With a sigh, he extended his hand out to her to help her stand. What was he…?

“I presume you have never seen a Forceball tournament before?” He asked.

She shook her head. Was he thinking of getting her into the match? Would she be able to see Temare and Reah compete? Normally, she’d not be allowed in as a former slave… but…

“I could get you in,” he explained further.

With a deep breath, Edenye took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Yet his pensive look had not dropped.

“I think it might be best if you are not recognized,” he muttered more to himself than to her. “I will sneak you in,” his eyes sparkled in mischief then and Edenye blinked curiously at him. “I can carry you on my back, but you will need to be still.”

She nodded, frowning at what he meant. Carefully, he lifted her onto the bench so she stood tall on it. Taking off his cloak, he turned around with his arms bent at his side.

“Jump on,” he said and she hesitated.

“My arm…,” she objected. “I cannot hold on!”

He shuffled closer, so her good hand could grip on his shoulder. “One foot in so I can hold it.”

Carefully, she shifted one foot into his hand and he shifted so her weight was on his back and her other foot easily slipped into the other.

“See,” his grin was audible. “Works!”

“My Lord,” she stammered. “How is this going to work?”

“Honestly, I have not truly thought this out,” he admitted. “Idea was to use my cloak to hide you.”

Edenye hoisted herself up, she glanced over his shoulder and to where his cloak was lying. It twitched, floated up around Malgus and settled on her and she pulled her head down. One hand disappeared from her foot, but she felt herself being held up in the Force while Malgus adjusted the cloak. All was dark, and her hands fumbled with the armour piece between his shoulder plates to adjust her grip.

“Are you alright back there?” Malgus asked, his arms returning to their original position.

This must look so ridiculous…. Edenye could only shake her head against his back.

“Yes….” She replied. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“They would not dare to question _me_ ,” Malgus grumbled and started moving.

He walked for a while before his footsteps turned to crunching on gravel. Sounds of conversation and laughing were muffled, a few curious glances brushed past her. Unaware of her.

“Keep still a little while longer,” Malgus whispered. “Almost there.”

She held her breath, tensing at every cursory glance or straight on stares settled on Malgus. If Xemok found out she was doing this… the overseers, she felt herself growing faint at the thought. The fallout would be… catastrophic. Concern brushed against her cheek, a question settling in her mind. Swallowing, she pushed down the thoughts and prayed to the Force that no one would notice.

“My Lord.” Someone greeted Malgus. “This way.”

The crunch of gravel turned to echoing steps against metal ground. He clanged up steps and Edenye swore she could hear low murmurs from behind walls to her left side. Occasionally she was jostled with an apologetic nudge on her nose when she had to take a hissing intake of air.

Maybe this was a mistake. What if she was found? What if she was going to be punished? Regardless of who smuggled her in?

“I can hear your thoughts,” Malgus muttered. “You will be fine.”

If only it were easy believing him…. There was no one around, so she lifted her head a bit drawing cooler and fresher air into her lungs.

“Where are we going?” She asked in a bare whisper.

“I have a balcony to myself,” Malgus whispered back his explanation, turning a corner to walk up another flight of stairs. “Just a warning: there might be some people waiting at the door for me, so be still just a while longer?”

She hummed and slid lower on his back, letting the hood fall back in its original position. Few moments later, Malgus was heaving her up another set of stairs until voices could be heard again. Tightening her grip, she exhaled as quietly as possible.

“No!” Malgus suddenly yelled, and she nearly let go if not for his tight grip on her. “No and no. Get back to your boxes or seats, do not pester me further!”

The last words echoed in her head and she winced at how loud it was. Feet scuffled and several hurried steps could be heard running past and down the steps.

“Parasites,” Malgus grumbled and started walking again.

Clicks were heard, a familiar woosh of a door sliding open. Quiet hit her, the muffled noises from below disappeared when Malgus moved inside what she assumed was his box. Another woosh and with a click the doors locked.

“This is the balcony,” he said, taking a hand away to tug on his cloak. “We cannot be seen from the outside.”

The hem of the hood lifted and she slowly lifted her head to look around not letting go of Malgus’ pauldrons. This was a spacious room with a smoky grey viewing screen spanning the entire side. In front of two padded benches with a little table separating them.

“A luxury afforded to the Empire’s hero,” Malgus huffed amused, bending his knees down. “You could even press your face against the screen and no one would notice.”

Hesitantly she stepped out of his grip, staring at the large screen that oversaw the field and the balconies below them. Stiffly, she sat down on the smaller bench, the itch inside her bandage starting up again. Wincing, she dug her nails into her right leg through the pants.

“Is it hurting still?” Malgus asked concerned as he folded his cloak on the larger bench.

“Itch,” she grimaced.

He pulled a sympathetic face and asked. “You will have to endure it, unfortunately.”

Edenye sighed and stopped digging her nails into her leg. Endure it… great.

“I will tell Eleena that I found you,” Malgus changed the topic as he sat down.

“How is she?” She asked.

“Fine, just exhausted from a recent mission,” Malgus replied sending her a crooked smile.

“What kind of mission?” Slipped out of her before she could restrain herself.

Malgus looked up from his datapad briefly before explaining. “The Republic does not rest, constantly pushing on our borders, inciting rebellions against us… fringe systems trying to encroach on our space. I am there to stop them.”

“Did you meet Jedi?” She asked curiosity loosening any restraints on her flood of questions.

“Quite a few,” Malgus chuckled. “And,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “They all ran!”

Giggling, Edenye tried to imagine the dull brown-robed figures turning on their heels and running. Some even tripping on the hems just like in this holo-series they had watched in Sith literature.

“Were you there when Darth Serance uprooted the Republic plot?”

“I was,” Malgus put down the datapad before pointing at a black box a bit further up. “He actually sits up there.”

It looked bigger than theirs, she tilted her head. “Alone?”

“Think his sister is with him?” Malgus frowned for a moment. “Serance and Atrea, his right hand, are siblings. Inseparable from what I heard, she is definitely around.”

“So…” Edenye pursed her lips. “What is a right hand? We discussed some bits of it in politics, but they never really told us what they do exactly.”

“Right hands are in general enforcers,” Malgus explained. “Atrea serves more as a bodyguard, administrator and second in command with his assigned part of the military. The role of a right hand is… not defined. It depends what the other needs and it can intersect into other spheres very easily.”

“Do you have one?”

Malgus laughed then. “Who do you think?”

“Eleena?”

“Indeed,” he winked. “Most want another Sith. Eleena is far more capable than any of them.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Way long before the Sacking of Coruscant,” Malgus smiled wistfully. “For a long time now.”

“So…,” Edenye asked. “If she is your right hand, why is not allowed in the academy?”

Malgus’ smile fell. “Force-blind are barely tolerated. But an alien and a former slave on top of that? That was where the administration drew the line.”

“Oh,” Edenye mouthed and looked down to where her good hand lying in her lap. “If I had been born without the Force, I would…”

“Be lucky if someone found you useful,” Malgus finished, a sad glint floating down on her nose. “Maybe it is for the best that you were born with it.”

An unspoken intention lay underneath, but it slipped from her senses.

“What do you mean?”

His expression closed up, the previous mirth completely vanished. “This is not the right place to discuss any of it.”

“What…,” she began, but he shook his head.

“Not here.”

In that moment a large holo-projection of the field flickered to life on the screen in front of them.

“Match is about to start,” Malgus commented and pointed at it. “This is for any replays and scorekeeping, otherwise we will see the field below, maybe a bit magnified.”

“Replays?”

“The Sith parents can be very _argumentative_ ,” Malgus snorted. “To settle any disputes, replays are shown.”

“Argumentative?”

Malgus was chortling loudly then. “Oh, you are in for a treat!”

Edenye looked back to the screen that showed the occasional overseer scurrying around, carrying baskets with little flags. Referee flags for the various rules and punishments.

“If you wish,” Malgus spoke up, pulling a console in-between. “We can show our support for a team. Your friends are competing, yes?”

“Yes,” she leaned over to look at the console. “Why though?”

“Our support would be shown,” he smirked. “Mostly Sith politics.”

“Anyone we are not supporting?” Edenye asked.

“There are a couple, but I wanted to know in which team your friends are in.”

“I don’t know,” Edenye confessed. “We have several first teams.”

“Names?”

“Reah Chraz,” she said.

He started typing and she finished, “Temare Ameryn.”

“Ameryn?” He sounded surprised.

“You know the family?”

“In passing…,” he trailed off, rubbing his chin. “Interesting.”

He took his hand away from the console revealing the team where the two names were on. Their match will be after this one.

“Right now, we have… Academy from Dromund Fels against Nicht-Ka.”

“Why did you send me to the Ziost academy?”

“Went there myself,” Malgus sighed. “I knew that Emfort would help you discreetly.”

“He mentioned that once.”

“What else did he say?”

“Not more,” she shrugged. “Should he have?”

He looked uncomfortable then. “I know I am asking a lot right now, but this is not the right place.”

“Where would be a right place?”

“Somewhere I know we are at no risk of being listened to.”

“I see,” Edenye said.

“There is much going on in the Empire,” Malgus sighed then. “You are sheltered from it in the academy and you need to be safe.”

“What is going on?”

Malgus started to talk, but a loud _gong_ interrupted him. The match was about to start and he mouthed ‘ _later_ ’ to her. Must not be important then, especially if she was being shielded from it here. Adult worries, what did they concern her? She turned to look down at the field where the teams started already to line up. Black and red shirts distinguishing the two teams. That was when boxes started to light up in the respective colours.

Were they supporting any of them? She threw Malgus a questioning look.

“I am throwing my lot in with Nicht-Ka,” Malgus said, pushing a blinking field on the console. “I owe it to someone to support his kid.”

“How often do you go to these tournaments?”

“Every time if there is no critical mission,” Malgus huffed. “Also you can’t just _not_ support a team.”

“Politics?” Edenye asked and he nodded.

Humming, she honed back on the field. “There are getting the captains to talk to the referee now!”

“Useless babbling about not breaking the rules,” Malgus snorted, leaning back and stretched his legs out. “I say the first foul is going to happen in the first twenty minutes.”

She felt a grin on her face then. Oh he was so wrong. “Ten,” she declared with more confidence she ever had had!

“If you say so,” he chuckled.

“Did you play?”

“Me?” Malgus was laughing loudly now. “No. We didn’t have this when I went to this academy.”

She blinked in surprise. Which only made him laugh louder.

“Before the war, we did not have the luxury of sports,” Malgus told her, finally regaining some composure. “When we returned Coruscant, the sport was just gaining popularity until the sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy saw it as a good way to promote our unity in our new territories.”

“The ones we liberated?”

“Yes…,” Malgus swallowed. “Those ones.”

A whistle broke Edenye’s attention away before her mind could linger on the strange reply. Acolytes down below surged towards the ball that hovered in the middle. Nicht-Ka were the first, broke through the defender lines, making a rush towards the goal line. In terms of skill they were better and that their plays were acted on smoothly without any hesitation from the team. She pulled a face when a lone defender who tried to stop the on storming charger was roughly pushed to the ground.       

“Seems like my support has been placed well,” Malgus commented, but his eyes were scanning the lower and visible balconies filled with lesser ranked Sith or Imperials. “Want to play a guessing game?”

She looked to him with a frown which he responded with a well-humoured wink.

“What kind of game?” She inquired, following his train of vision.

“Spot the parents,” he grinned and pointed at the screen. “Watch who gets visibly agitated or who seems to be cheering harder when their kid has the ball.”

She pressed a fist in front of her mouth, but still snorted. Was this how he passed time at these matches? Watching Sith parents cheer on their offspring.

Like she had predicted, it took ten minutes for a foul to be declared. Replays started on their screen, but they were not interested in that. Still following his eyes, they finally found a pair. Two women from the looks of it arguing heatedly with each other.

“Already ten minutes in and we got the first,” Malgus sounded assured then. “Your bet was right then.”

She shot him a crooked grin. Of course, he of all people should know!

“If only we could hear what they are saying,” she pointed out, trying to see what words were formed by their lips.

Malgus grinned smugly then. “I once learned a bit about lip reading once, so…” he squinted his eyes to focus on the still arguing Sith. “The left one is accusing the right one’s kids of cheating.”

Edenye rolled her eyes. Of course… one of the first things anyone ever called out first when there was a foul: Cheating and faking it. Still, she stared in disbelief as the two were still arguing fiercely.

“Now the right is saying that hers would never be stupid enough to get caught.”

“The referees declared it as a legal tackle,” Edenye giggled.

The left one stomped with her foot, her anger clearly worn on her face as she stared down the other Sith.

“Oh you will love this, she has declared that the other has admitted to her kid cheating.”

Edenye frowned. The replays had shown that the tackle had followed the rules. How had the Sith not seen this?

Malgus winced but continued to tell her. “Now the right said something along the lines of 'We are Sith by the Emperor’s feet'?”

Emperor’s feet? Edenye could not help herself as she burst out laughing, tears brimming in her eyes and she was clutching her hand to her mouth as she wheezed in laughter.

“I admit I have never heard of that one before,” Malgus shook his head, stunned and holding back his own laughter.

“Well,” Edenye gained some composure back. “We do _kneel_ to the Emperor… so…”

“By the Emperor,” Malgus pulled a mock-disgusted face. “I did not _need_ that image!”

Edenye shot him a wide grin, eyebrows raised in victory.

“Wait until we get to your team,” Malgus held up his index finger in a threat. “Then we will see who will be laughing.”

Edenye snorted and as haughtily as she could, she retorted: “Temare and Reah are way too good. They do not need to cheat to win.”

“You are very confident in them,” Malgus commented still amused.

“I am because I know,” Edenye blankly stated. “I will be right.”

“You almost sound like the two down there.”

“I…,” she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Admit it,” he sent her an almost affectionate look.

“No,” she sniffed, relieved he had not meant it seriously.

“Revenge for the feet,” Malgus whispered conspiratorially.

She crinkled her nose, but with the itch now long forgotten, she turned her attention back to the match. Nicht-Ka would win in the end, after at least ten official fouls. Well, it was fifteen while Malgus was arguing it had been fourteen.

“That had been an illegal hand touch!” she pointed at the, in their box controversial, replay on their console. “See!”

Malgus shook his head. “No. If you look at it from this angle, there is enough space between his hand and the ball.”

“By that definition any space between atoms means nothing ever touches anything!”

“You are being dramatic,” Malgus rolled his eyes and then with a mock commanding tone. “Concede!”

“Never!” She snapped back, but her mouth corners were tugging upwards and turned the angle of the camera around. “Look! That finger is touching.”

“By your previous definition…,” Malgus smugly trailed off.

“Are you seriously going to…?”

He held up a finger. “One rule to keep in mind they will never teach you here: Never give your opponent something to throw back at you.”

Edenye closed her mouth. Stars, she had not thought about that….

“Look,” Malgus took the console from her again. “I know that he touched the ball.”

“So why did you argue then?”

“Because the reports Emfort smuggled to me said you were good in law and strategy.”

“Why are you interested in my reports?”

“Not here. Trust me.”

Why did he always keep deflecting? Before she could prod further, Malgus leaned forward then, making it clear she was not to keep asking. Sighing she kept her mouth shut where the next two teams walked out in two lines from the changing rooms. Her academy’s name blazed on the holo-screen in red. Looking to the red shirts, she found the two. Black hair pulled back tightly with no jewellery on Temare’s side.

“There they are,” she pointed at them.

 “Alright,” Malgus shrugged. “Suppose we are setting my support to them then.”

He tapped on a few fields on the screen.

“Now to wait for the fireworks,” Malgus commented drily as he pulled his datapad out.

“Fireworks?”

“Some Sith from the opponent academy were hoping I’d their children as an apprentice. Take it as a no,” Malgus explained just as the datapad started to vibrate. “Here comes the outrage.”

“Why not say directly no?”

“Not how this works,” Malgus shook his head. “They do not take a direct no seriously, but not supporting their academy’s team? It is more accepted.”

“Very… underhanded,” Edenye huffed.

“It is how the Sith work. Might be getting messages from your academy now.”

He blew out a breath. “I suppose…,” he frowned at his datapad again. “Temare’s parents messaged.”

“They invited me to go to them during the break and I got permission from my overseer yesterday,” Edenye babbled happily.

“For the parade?” Malgus asked, strangely curious.

“Yes?”

Malgus remained silent, continued staring down at his datapad with a hesitant finger hovering over the screen.

That night, Edenye dreamt of the orange flower crown while Irithrea and Reah slept in the same bunk. They were curled in a tight ball after the mini celebration they had thrown in the mess hall amongst themselves.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edenye is about to leave to experience the Empire outside the academy. Yet, the clock is ticking on the vision.

* * *

 

‘ _We will see each other soon_.’

Malgus’ promise would not leave her mind whenever her fingers brushed against the stone hanging around her neck. It had been hastily whispered into her ears once he had smuggled her back into the gardens. Before Temare’s match had reached halftime, he had been called on a mission. One that had made him leave for his ship immediately. For the whole week with the tournament raging on around them, it crept into her thoughts… ringing true. In her dreams she saw the orange flower crown shining brighter in her hands. All else was blurred, muted. The two paths mere dark shadows pressing down in her peripherals. They would meet again, she knew this deep in her bones and the stars at night shone this truth.

Just… how soon was this ‘soon’? Already a week after the promise seeming a figment of her imagination, the tournament was ending in a grand ceremony. Tomorrow, most acolytes would leave with their families for the Empire wide break.

The ceremony was broadcasted on the screens in the mess hall where Edenye and her group sat watching it while they ate. Darth Serance presided over the handing out of medals and flower crowns to the first three victorious teams. Ziost’s academy had won this year, the commentator blathering on about the last time the academy had won and more on the sport’s importance to the Empire. Not interesting, Edenye sighed as the camera panned over the stadium.  Until it landed briefly on Temare who beamed into the camera, her too big flower crown already tilting down one ear. It looked comical, but the camera had already swung away. Back to Darth Serance and his emotionless mask that seemed to stare anything down even if it was flying high above his head.

Boring… Irithrea was periodically rolling her eyes each time “for the good of the Empire” was uttered.

“How long is this supposed to go?” Lorzaen complained looking up from his datapad with his assigned history texts. “They finished giving out the prizes!”

“Honestly I would be more surprised if they stopped within the next two hours,” Orion remarked snidely, shoveling more food into his mouth. “The longer they take, the more food we can eat!”

“We really don’t have to keep watching,” Hadrian added and shrugged. “The interesting bit is already over anways! Tomorrow we will have the academy for ourselves! Then we can be all bored alone and without this grand hot air blowing!”

Irithrea smirked and snorted. “Not something to look forward to.”

Hadrian and Orion giggled, continuing to eat their food while Lorzaen stuck his head right back into his datapad.

“How were the labs?” Edenye asked quietly, leaning over to Irithrea.

Her arm was out of the sling finally, the skin was however still achingly tender around her wrist. Over the last couple of days, she had been in the medbay. On orders by Emfort since she had to be put back into a pain killer induced sleep. Ever since she had been pushed down the stairs, she and Irithrea had not been able to talk. During any visits, Temare and Reah had dominated all conversation until the healers shooed them out.

Irithrea’s face lit up and shot her a soft smile. “Alright actually! Lord Taesmin, came around after the first few matches to look over the experiment we were doing.”

“We?” Edenye asked, rubbing her aching wrist.

“Oh,” Irithrea pulled a face. “There were four others from my class the overseer trusted not to blow the set up.”

“I mean,” Lorzaen chuckled, his head back up from his datapad. “All they had to do was wait for the higher born Sith acolytes to be gone.”

Irithrea rolled her eyes so much that only their whites showed. “You cannot even begin to guess how many flasks we have already lost to them.”

“Any explosions you have not told us about?” Edenye teased.

“I already told you most!” Irithrea spluttered defending herself. “Once you heard five, you heard all of them!”  

“Aha, so you did not!” Edenye smirked at her, taking a smug sip from her cup.

Irithrea growled, baring her sharp teeth. One that did not reach her eyes that were twinkling in amusement.  

“What kind of experiments did you do then?” Edenye asked, nudging Irithrea’s legs with hers.

“We did some about soil neutralization and nutrient synthesis,” Irithrea started to talk, pulling out her own datapad then.

Probably to show her some of the diagrams and graphs they had made in that session.

“Does not sound interesting,” Hadrian huffed derisively. “Thought it would be more… _flashy_.”

Irithrea sent a glare to Hadrian who smirked back.

“Well,” her voice had gained a haughty tone. “This is a very important process we were doing! The Dark Council had authorized the rebuilding efforts on Korriban only a decade ago! We still need to restore the water cycles and the soil! A lot of those,” she grimaced as if she had bitten something sour. “’basic’ experiments are more important than those ‘flashy’ ones!”

Orion cackled, slapping Hadrian’s back. “Even I could have told you that!”

Lorzaen pulled his mouth into a thin line. “Korriban used to be the world that brought forth the Purebloods, the total orbital bombardment brought the disrupted ecosystem. That will take time to even restore a fraction of what it once used to be.”

Silence fell over them, awkwardly looking down to their plates. The Jedi had tried to kill them all back then… the least they could do now was pick up the pieces.

“At least we got to put them back into their place,” Edenye murmured, pushing her plate away, no longer hungry.

“Yes,” Lorzaen drawled. “But we cannot trust the Republic and the Jedi to not try again.”

“Never,” Edenye shook her head. “But if we can rebuild Korriban then we can show we are stronger…”

“You sound like the politics and law overseers,” Irithrea laughed loudly, harshly, interrupting her like a nail being drawn on a board. “Why have they not given you extra reading for the break?”

“I…,” she replied, but she could only narrow her eyes at Irithrea.

“I nearly got thrown into the dungeon because of you,” Irithrea hissed into her ear. “If you hadn’t let yourself be thrown down the stupid stairs, Xemok would have nearly gotten me punished for accusing him. Overseer Emfort intervened before I could be dragged there, but…”

The nostrils flared and she snapped her head away. Leaving Edenye feeling faint, swaying on the bench. Where was this coming from? She… her fault? What…? Dungeons? Had… she had not even been conscious for that! That was Xemok’s fault! Not hers! Why was she upset with her? Was it more than that? Was it that only she had gotten permission to take up Temare’s invitation? She should ask and talk it out, not let it fester before leaving. Demand and confront her! Be a Sith and not let it grow to something that would hurt her down the line. White mist hung over the table… it would happen. But… The longer she watched Irithrea furiously focusing on her datapad, bitterness curled into Edenye’s nose. Turning her stomach… maybe it was best not to. Wait until she had returned from the parade to talk to Irithrea.

Maybe she would have realized it had not been her fault. She looked to Lorzaen whose gave her a sympathetic look and a smile that said not to worry. With a sigh, she looked back to where she had pushed her plate. Still not hungry. Not to worry… yet…, the mist had vanished when Irithrea pushed her tray further in, she _did_ worry. Soon she’d be packing her meager belongings so Zutri could pick her up before curfew hours to turn her over to Temare’s parents. She’d see the Empire as a Sith acolyte, not as a slave and not just from holograms from the books here! At least… Temare had said they would visit Kaas City and Ziost City. Maybe she could bring something for her group with her? As an appeasement?

“Well, the ceremony is over now,” Orion sighed. “And they will move to the mess hall in an hour I think.”

Hadrian threw his utensils down then. “Should vacate now lest” – he sniffed and adopted a mock version of Zutri’s voice – “’our betters’ see us.”

Irithrea hissed loudly, jumping up not bothering to put the rest of her plates back on her tray. “Good, I have stuff to read up on!”

With that she marched away, fists clenched and head forward. Her rage zapped the hair on Edenye’s neck, bringing forth a painful prickle crawling down her shoulder blades. Pressure built up in her eyes and she pinched their corners. Do not cry… do not cry…

“That…” Lorzaen stood up. “I didn’t think she’d be mad at you?”

“She didn’t tell me she was nearly thrown into the dungeons?” She could not prevent the sniffle working up.

“Iri found you,” Orion explained pulling her tray towards his and started stacking the plates and bowls. “Xemok was still there too and she prevented him from leaving. Overseers came and… whatever you had done to draw them towards you, Xemok started telling them that you had attacked him and that Iri wanted to finish it.”

Paralysed in horror, Edenye sat there as Orion slowly walked over to her, hand reaching for her shoulder. Comfort trying to push away the freeze, but... it didn’t. If he had started this and….

“Did overseers believe him?”

“Yes,” Orion rubbed her back. “Until Overseer Emfort came and I don’t know how, but he convinced them that you and Iri were not at fault. That the murders had Xemok riled up and such. That’s how Iri escaped a stay in the dungeons.”

“And I expulsion,” she muttered numbly, her wrist starting to ache again.

“Yes,” Orion quietly agreed. “I am sorry.”

She looked over and… nearly screamed. Only biting her tongue bloody could she swallow it back down. A large black figure had just leaned over him! Blade in hand, waiting to strike. Its head, or what she thought was the head, snapped to her and… burst into a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the air.

“We should go,” Hadrian hastily grunted suddenly, somehow next to her, pulling her to her feet.

As soon as he hauled her away from the table, slaves flew from the corners of the mess hall to their table. Clearing away their plates and pushed the table towards the side. Last preparations for the gathering after the ceremony gathering. Where they were not be seen nor heard during, the usual orders. Every time an event took place, they were locked into their quarters far away the visiting Sith.

Irithrea had buried herself deep into her bunk, back turned to them when they entered. Annoyance flickered around her and she tucked the blanket further up. Unsure, Edenye stood in the middle of the room. Her bunk was right above Irithrea’s… She would have to get up there while Irithrea wanted her nowhere near. Hadrian walked past her then to his own bunk, briefly patting her shoulder.  

Nose flaring, she stared at Irithrea’s back as her hands balled into fists. Fine! Don’t talk to her! Be mad for thing she had not been at fault for! See if she cared! Huffing, she stomped over to the bunk and not so quietly climbed up. As soon as she was up, a loud thump could be heard from underneath her mattress. Oh no… she did not get to be annoyed with her for that! Growling, she pulled her bag out from the little nook. Her little tooka, datapad… clothes…

Right… calm down. She took a deep breath, dispelling the angry heat clouding her mind. This would solve nothing. Yet, her heart sped up again, sorting this out now... Irithrea was not ready for it yet. The blank, seeped in rage mental walls around her mind were dizzying to prod in the Force. Soon she would leave and Irithrea would be able to stew on this for two weeks.

Once she was back, her throat tied up at the thought, damp earth clung to her fingers and between their spaces hung the orange flowers. Shaking her head, she squeezed her eyes shut. Not again… she did not…. She quickly clutched at the stone, the images growing fainter until they disappeared as soon as her fingers closed around it. Whatever this stone was… it helped. The dreams, the shades… all had become blurry and muted.

For two hours, they could see the after ceremony gathering going on from their little window. Not that much could be seen, only people’s shadows thrown on the opposite wall they had a direct view on. Edenye sat on her bunk, datapad in hand. Yet, she could not really focus on the texts in front of her. Instead she watched Orion and Hadrian meditate together. Reading would only make her fidgety. That morning, she and Lorzaen had gone to the library to download books they might not have access to during the break. Mostly law for her with a file of compiled essays Emfort wanted her to read and learn from. Just… her head had no space for this. Not right now. Not whenever she even moved slightly making the mattress creak audibly, Irithrea growled loudly.

Relief flooded her as soon as Zutri’s approaching presence brushed against her senses. But just as relief came, so did shame. How could she be glad to be away from Irithrea? Chest tight, she slowly climbed down with her backpack already put on. She looked to Irithrea who huffed and turned her head away. Edenye felt her heart clench painfully at the motion and wavered slightly on her feet. As if… the always warm little space where their bond lay… it was hollow. Felt vacant… dead. A dull surface.

_They would never see each other again_.

“You going then?” Orion asked, cracking an eye open.

“I sense Zutri coming,” she pressed forth, cringing at how watery it sounded.

What had she just…

“Oh,” Lorzaen quickly scrambled off his bed and jumped over. “Be safe, yes?”

This time, Edenye could not force the knot in her throat out. Lorzaen embraced her quickly. “You have to tell me about the Spires of Victory!”

“I will,” she whispered, finally being able to move her arms to hug him back.

Lorzaen let go, patting her shoulder.

“You better tell us everything about the parade!” Orion called out, he and Hadrian waving at her.

“Sure!” She smiled shakily.

The door slid open, Zutri glaring at them darkly before she stepped inside.

“Come,” she snipped curtly and grabbed Edenye by the wrists, yanking her out.

Hard, a nail dug painfully into her skin and bone. Surprised, Edenye stumbled after her with a startled whimper. The door clanged shut, it felt like a prison cell being closed. Always… cutting her off, she shivered violently, her teeth shattering against each other. She had to tell someone… in any way.

“Overseer?” Her voice was high pitched.

“What is it?” Zutri hissed.

“I…,” all courage left her and she shut her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the overseer who narrowed her eyes at her.

“Spit it out,” Zutri tightened her grip, shaking her.

With a sob, the stone in her chest fell and Edenye spilled the words out. “I sensed danger…”

“Danger?” Zutri spat out incredulously, pulling her further away from the door. “Spit it out. Now!”

“I sense them dying soon,” she blurted out, scrunching up her nose as the tears were back. “I swear I know nothing else!”

Zutri frowned, uncertain until quick stabs along Edenye’s mind made her flinch away squeezing her eyes shut.

“I am begging you,” Edenye blindly grabbed at Zutri’ large sleeves. “I just know I will never see them again!”

Zutri shook her weak grip off as if she was a flick of dirt. “I see. Your feelings deceive you, the guards never fail.”

Edenye shook her head rapidly, making another grab for Zutri’s sleeve. A whistle. Her head was thrown to the side, a stinging burn springing up from her temple to her jaw. Shock numbing the pain down…. Wide-eyed Edenye stared at Zutri whose hand hovered over her still. Tears stopped and…

“Do not embarrass yourself further!” Zutri snapped, gripping her by the shoulders. “Control yourself or I will make sure you will spend your break in the dungeons!”

Not the dungeons! Looking down to where Zutri was still grabbing her, she nodded rapidly. Numbly she clutched the stinging cheek.

“Good,” Zutri snarled, yanking her down the corridor then. “And do not make a noise until we reached the meet-up point.”

Zutri turned around and started to tug her down the stairs. All the while, Edenye was shivering, silently letting herself be dragged roughly through the main doors.

It was already dark outside. Large lanterns illuminated the path to the landing pads in a golden glow. The trees, Edenye felt shivers whenever she stared at the blackness lurking beyond them. Like little fingers drawing up her spine. Prickles across her neck and shoulders, like eyes on her… she tore her eyes off and straight onto the metal pavement. Zutri mercilessly pulled her past Sith and Imperials deep in conversation. A few annoyed glances, crinkled noses and even disgusted huffs… but no one said anything or truly paid attention to her. Except… fingers kept drawing at the back of her neck, making the hair there stand on end.

The landing pads were crowded, shuttles landed, figures got in and as soon as the doors closed the ships lifted off again for the next. Curious, Edenye nearly slowed down to watch. Only to be yanked roughly forward again. No time to watch….

Reah! She had not even thought about her! But… somehow… the stone in her gut felt hollow… No? Her stomach twisted and she had to gulp for the cool evening air. Do not think about this… Stars, let her be wrong this one time! Let Zutri have listened to her….    

“Edenye!” Temare’s shout burst through the crowd and Edenye looked around.

Where… oh! At the furthest landing pad, stood three figures huddled together in the shadow thrown by a large tree. One, from what Edenye could see in the semi-darkness back there, was waving wildly at her. Finally… her feet moved faster and almost walked next to Zutri. Not directly beside her, yet annoyance flickered along her mind… still she was behind her. There were no grounds to punish her.

Two tall shapes melted out of the darkness behind Temare.

“Darth Jul, Darth Ithren,” Zutri let go of Edenye’s hand, bowing at the waist.

Two Darths? Edenye hastily followed her lead, lowering her head so she could only see the hems of their cloaks ending at their knees. When she looked up, the two Darths were frowning at the overseer who had her arm out, preventing Edenye from stepping closer.

“Overseer,” Temare’s mother replied cautiously. “Acolyte?”

She leaned over, not bothering to look at Zutri. Swallowing, she looked up to Zutri who still had not moved her arm away. What was going on?

“Your signature is needed,” Zutri spoke coldly, holding out a datapad with her other hand.

“Whose?” The man had suddenly built himself up in front of them.

And… shocked she watched as Zutri physically shrink away. This man was terrifying, imposing and face drawn into sharp lines. Temare’s eyes burned down at the overseer who still held out the datapad.

“Any of yours, my Lords,” Zutri replied looking down.

Just as a triumphant smirk spread on the man’s face.

“Good,” the man stated.

He took the datapad, made an elegant wrist movement that formed a fluid line on the screen.    

“If that is all?” He asked perfectly cordially, yet the cold edge cut to his tone cut through.

“Yes, my Lord.” Zutri bowed again.

The hand in front of her disappeared. Off-balance, Edenye started to walk to the Purebloods.

Suddenly a hand slammed into her back, knocking the air out of her. With a choked gasp, Edenye stumbled forward. Yet… two hands caught her, pulling her back up and behind them. So quickly, her eyes barely registered the movement.

In a daze she finally stood in front of Temare who caught her by the forearms. Concern swam in her eyes as she shot her a shocked and questioning look.

“What was that?” Temare asked breathily, pulling her further away.

“What?” Edenye asked still unsteady on her feet.

“She nearly threw you at us,” Temare hissed back.

Edenye could only shrug.

Sighing, Temare looked her over and frowned. “Aren’t you cold?”

“A bit?” Edenye admitted, rubbing her arms that had grown numb from the chill.

“Why they give you no cloaks is beyond me.” Temare pulled a grimace.

“It isn’t that bad…” Edenye held up one hand to appease Temare again.

This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, nor would it be the last. Yet, like all the other times, Temare did not look convinced. With her flower crown slightly askew on her head, black hair falling in stray strands into her face, an air of confident defiance swirled tightly around her. Her mouth tugged up briefly victorious as she re-adjusted the ornament back to its proper place. The flowers shook dangerously as she did.

“Good thing I told my parents about this,” Temare grinned widely then at Edenye and turned around to another figure that was leaning against the ramp’s railing. “Cyth, you have the cloak?”

Edenye’s mouth grew impossibly dry. A cloak for her?

“You wouldn’t _shut up_ about it. _Yes_ , I have it!” A disgruntled comment came before the figure shifted into the light.

A tall, lanky Pureblood stepped forth in the middle of an eye roll. In his arms was a carefully folded bundle of cloth that he shoved into Temare’s arms.

“My brother,” Temare huffed snidely, pointing with a thumb at him. “Cytharat. Don’t stare at him for too long or he will become a black hole.”

Edenye spluttered. Hands pressed in front of her mouth to stifle a loud giggle fighting its way past her composure.

“Not funny!” Cytharat hissed at his sister who merely smiled serenely back. “Be glad you have a flower crown or this would be it.”

“Ah, the flower crown of protection.” Temare teased waggling her eye-ridges. “May I remind you that _you_ introduced that rule?”

“A fact I regret dearly,” Cytharat chuckled.

Temare was already ignoring her bother, who groaned in exasperation and held the bundle out to Edenye.

“We are going to be outside a lot at home,” Temare explained with a shrug. “And we do not want you to freeze to death.”

“Are we going off-planet?” Edenye asked, hesitantly taking the offered bundle.

Soft, thick fabric flowed open with an airy whoosh. Smooth fabric glided over her fingers that slipped into its folds like water. So much lighter than it looked. Lifting it more into the light, she saw it was black cloth lined with white seams along the hood and hem. She pulled it over her head, unsure still if this was what she was supposed to do. Like air it settled evenly on her shoulders, falling down to her upper thighs.

The chill of the wind was gone… some warmth returned her. In a daze, she smoothed the fabric over her chest. Felt so surreal… too expensive for someone like her to wear! Would she even be allowed to keep it once she returned?

“We are flying to Dromund Fels,” Temare explained, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Same solar system, but you know” – she waved dismissively – “The season there is still early spring.”

“Oh?” All Edenye could manage.

“Also do not forget the flight regulations that make this flight longer than it needs to,” Cytharat chimed in.

Flight regulations? First time she ever heard about them. Why hadn’t this been mentioned in the law classes? Or was this something they’d learn once they were old enough to start piloting lessons?

“Believe me they are as annoying as they sound,” Temare snorted, straightening out a wrinkle on her arm. “Designated atmospheric entry points in planetary shields…”

“Girls,” Temare’s father’s quiet inquiry made Edenye jump, which prompted a soft look from the tall Pureblood. “Illya is having a word with this overseer and then we should be off.”

“Illya is my mother,” Temare explained quickly. “Is there a problem, dad?”

Temare’s father sighed, annoyance and a wavering temper flickering evident in how he clenched his jaw. “All is well. Just need a bit of patience.”

“Is there a problem with me going?” Edenye asked quietly wide-eyed, clasping her hands together underneath her cloak.

“None,” Temare’s father assured her, reaching out with his hand.

The flinch was immediate, fear racing in her chest until… No, this was not Zutri’s hand. Temare exchanged startled looks with her father who held up the hand in a sort of peace offering.

“Overseer Zutri has tried catching the wrong signature,” he explained, dropping his hand back to his side.

The wrong signature? That… she felt bile burning in her mouth, could mean breaking so many laws! Worst case, it could be spun into a conspiracy to murder an acolyte. If the wrong judge ruled on this in Sith Court… execution would be the least of the punishments. Why would Zutri try and catch them off like that?

“As I said, Illya is having some words.”

Cytharat snickered and Temare concealed a chuckle behind her fist. With a nod of her head, Temare made Edenye turn around to where Illya and Zutri were standing. Or more… Illya was towering over Zutri. Illya’s stare was like an ice glacier with a deep crack going through that could not be bridged. The more it drew out, the colder it grew… As if the Pureblood was sucking out all the day’s remaining heat from the air.

And… Zutri was cowering away…? Wide-eyed and mouth going slack, Edenye watched the tall human shrinking with every second ticking away. The sting on her cheek almost forgotten as she continued to watch.

Cytharat bent down and whispered to Temare: “I bet two minutes.”

“One minute,” Temare added, smirking with all her teeth glinting in the light.

“Cytharat… Temare,” her father reprimanded, but it held no seriousness given how the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards.

Edenye raised an eyebrow at Temare who leaned over to whisper into her ear: “We have bets running on how fast mum can make someone surrender.”

Looking back to Illya who exuded pure disgust, Zutri looked behind her quickly, jaw clenched tightly, visibly anxious to leave. Robbed of authority and power that she had always worn naturally around her in a cloud. Strange… with just a stare Illya had dispelled it, robbing Zutri of this and left her vulnerable.

Illya tilted her head then. A sweet, yet dripping with condescension, smile spread on her face. For a moment, Zutri wavered in front of the Pureblood… and then bowed her head.

Submission.

“I won,” Temare mouthed to Cytharat.

“That was over a minute!” He pouted in protest.

“Did you time it?”

“Did _you_?”

Temare pursed her lips and righted her crown with an indignant huff.

“I suggest you two stop,” Temare’s father said evenly, traces of his previous amusement gone. “We do not want to give of the impression we are divided?”

“No, dad,” Temare and Cytharat chorused back.

“Good,” the Pureblood continued, his face softened as he continued gentler. “Edenye, I do apologise for this delay. The academy is known to be very…” – He inhaled through his teeth – “ _stringent_ on their rules.”

“My…” She started and then the Pureblood held up his hand stopping her.

“You can call me Helios,” he grinned, lowering the hand. “I hope you like your cloak?”

The… why was he asking about the cloak? She gripped the hem and nodded.

“No need to be shy,” Helios nudged Temare slightly. “She told us you were not given anything outside your academy garb. So we got you one.”

“I…,” Edenye had to swallow heavily and stared at Temare for help who smiled sheepishly back. “Appreciate the thought.”

“Now you do not have to freeze anymore!” Temare blurted out happily.

No longer cold…. There were no words she could grasp to utter. No longer cold… and they had gotten her a cloak fit for a Darth! Forcing herself to smile, her eyes flitted between the three. Did they want something from her? She was just an acolyte! What use could she be to them to warrant such gifts?

“You are making her nervous.” Illya’s voice suddenly chimed up behind her before a comforting hand settled on her right shoulder, one Edenye could not bring herself to shudder away from. “It is a gift. We heard about the circumstances and decided to step in for our daughter’s friend.”

“I… see,” Edenye replied, tongue felt like it was coated with sand.

“Come,” Illya started to walk, her hand still on her shoulder making Edenye move reluctantly with her.

Something they all noticed and they stopped moving.

“At ease,” Illya’s voice was soothing and the muscles in Edenye’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “We do not wish you harm.”

Harm? She looked to Temare who looked back confused, unsure what was going on. But Helios nudged Temare towards the landing pad where a shuttle was waiting with its ramp already down. Two guards stood at attention right next to it, backs straight and rifles in front. Ready to be used. Her breathing stuttered, the helmets… the way they held it… like the guards in Relion’s estate. A whimper escaped her and she froze. Illya stopped with her, a concerned draw on her mouth appeared.

No danger… Edenye inhaled shallowly, the guard’s attention and protection extended over her… Remember? But… she could not…

“Everything is alright,” Illya murmured, kneeling down in front of her, keeping a hold on her shoulders. “They won’t harm you.”

Edenye nodded jerkily, feeling small and… pathetic. Again, she was just a former slave! What did she know? Hesitantly, Illya lifted a finger towards the side that Zutri had slapped. She flinched away, a sharp pain stabbing into her neck.

“Who?” Illya asked then in a low and deadly serious tone.

“Overseer,” Edenye whispered, clutching her now numb cheek in shame.

Illya’s mouth disappeared as a flash of… Edenye could not quite say… the Pureblood’s presence in the Force was difficult to grasp. But the rage was unmistakable with its heat and spiky feel on her skin.

“She cannot hurt you now,” Illya sighed, smoothing a hand over her braids. “Let’s go inside?”

Edenye nodded, still looking at her feet as Illya carefully guided her to the ramp and up. Inside the shuttle, in front of the cockpit was a seating arrangement where Temare and Cytharat already were sitting. Temare patted the spot next to her, a curious look on her face with the flower crown already on a table near her. A human girl stood to the side carrying a tray with steaming cups on it. Slave? No… the shock collar was missing and there was no fear clinging to her like a second skin. More of a servant then.

“Sit down,” Illya said gently pushing her towards Temare. “Helios…” She rubbed the golden eye-ridge jewelry with a long sigh. “We need to discuss this.”

“Yes,” Helio replied grimly, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. “Cyth, keep an eye on the two.”

Cytharat sighed, but nodded. “As long as they let me read.”

Temare snorted, pulling Edenye down next to her. “Of course. We do not need you to keep us entertained!”

“How fortunate for me,” Cytharat mocked not even sparing them a glance as he pulled out a datapad. “Just keep your conversation quiet.”

Temare stuck her tongue out at him, which… the tightness in Edenye’s chest finally fled completely and she giggled.  

“We got food and drinks. You have eaten right?”

“Yes,” Edenye replied, her tongue finally no longer feeling like coated in sand anymore. “How long are we going to be flying?”

“Five hours,” Cytharat answered that, looking at her over his datapad. “Honestly, you two should sleep since we are going to arrive early in the morning on Fels.”

Temare rolled her eyes, then waved the servant who silently glided over. “Set the cups down here.” She pointed at the table. “Then you are dismissed.”

The servant nodded, eyes still down cast as she set the cups on the table. Silent and obedient. That could have been her…. All cowed, Relion throwing her in dark rooms every few days to leave her panicking in them before dragging her somewhere. But, Temare was not that cruel. She just… didn’t see her.  

When the servant passed her, Edenye turned and asked: “What’s your name?”

“My Lord!” She stammered, eyes wild searching out Temare who stared back, just as shocked. “Serai, my Lord.”

“Thank you, Serai,” Edenye smiled up.

Serai blinked, the tension in her face fled as the features around her eyes and mouth relaxed. Then with a bow with her head, she scurried out, leaving the three of them sitting in utter silence.

“Why did you do that?” Cytharat asked, sounding curious as he set the datapad on his chest.

“She was no slave? There was no collar, so…,” Edenye quickly tried to explain.

“You thank them?” Cytharat finished, now sounding confused. “Why?”

Why? She stared blankly at the two, Temare sharing the same open confusion as her brother. How did they not see? Wasn’t this what they had been taught too like she had been drilled in before she had been move to the main academy? What all the folk tales whispered to her at night were about? Of thanking the Sith for their service and protection, while they thanked the people for their service and loyalty in return?

“When I was a slave, we had to say our thanks to assure them of our loyalty,” Edenye replied, cringing slightly at the example. “The Dark Council gives thanks for our loyalty and service. Same principle.”

Temare’s face fell as the word ‘slave’ was said. After a moment, she stretched a hand out and grasped hers. “I understand.”

Cytharat remained quiet, a pensive air surrounding him as he buried himself further into the couch. Lifting his datapad up to conceal his face. Shrugging, she turned to Temare who was smiling again and pulling out a little dejarik board.

Not an hour later however, they were asleep. Until… a hushed conversation ripped Edenye into a state of half-sleep and half-waking.

“You need to wait… have you seen her flinch? She needs time and patience.” Sounded like Illya talking. “They… did you see the imprint?”

“They are treating them as slaves,” Helios was speaking. “Like they want them to fail against unworthy acolytes.”

“Her last name should have gotten her away…”

“Even _if_ … you know why.”

A sigh as a comforting wave washed over her. Low, dulled and far away.

“Have you sent the message?”

“He has already replied.”

“Oh? Isn’t he on a mission still?”

Who were they talking about? Breathing in deeply, she turned on her side. Fabric rustled as she did as the weight of a blanket shifted on her. With the next inhale, she had slid back into a deep sleep.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edenye arrives at Temare's home with her family. Yet, Sith politics haunt every aspect of a young Sith's life. Even hers. Surprise visitors will bring forth an offer that might be political, however, there might be other -- personal -- reasons.

* * *

 

No dreams came to her that night. Its silence drowned out the shuttle’s engine’s steady hum. Yet, it had seemed like she had just fallen asleep when a hand brushing over her forehead pulled her back out. Eyes flying open, she was greeted with Illya’s kind smile shining down. Confused, she blinked into the glaring lamp light hanging above them.

“We arrive soon.” Illya took her hand away. “Do you have a spare set of clothes you could change into?”

Rubbing her eyes, Edenye groggily sat up with her elbows. The blanket on her chest fell down to her stomach. Light fluttering spread from her eyelids down to her neck. No danger… she released a breath.

“I have another in my bag,” she replied, voice scratchy still from sleep.

Which was – she realized as heat set her face on fire and she had to look away from Illya in shame – the only other set she had of her academy tunics. To them it must seem like so little, yet it had been so much to her in the beginning. What must they think? She looked down to the large crinkles in the tunic she had slept in. Not at all presentable in any way…. With a knot in her throat, she tugged the tunic’s collar back.

“Do you want to wear your academy clothes?”Illya carefully moved the neatly folded cloak aside on the table.

Why did she ask? She only had these clothes…? What else could she wear?

“I…,” she bit the tip of her tongue. “I would be grateful, my….” – Illya tilted her head – “Illya.”

“Temare is in the fresher already,” Illya spoke, nodding towards a door behind her. “We can give you some tunics.”

Edenye blinked at the Pureblood, voice tied off. Jarring almost, to see two Pureblood Sith being _kind_ to her. There was no hidden barb in their tone, nothing that could mean betrayal. Like a dream she was yet to wake from. Yet… she should have known given how Temare had talked about them. How were they so different to the other Pureblood overseers? Cold cruelness to this unwavering kindness. Was she just waiting for them to lash out, lay down a list of demands…?

“I can sense your apprehension. You are our daughter’s friend, we wish you no harm,” Helios commented lightly, stepping into her field of vision with arms laden with a cloth bundle. “We got you some clothes on the way to the tournament for you.”

For a long moment, she simply stared at the offered bundle. Unable to speak, stunned into silence. They had already gifted her the cloak! Why more?

“Thank you,” she finally breathed out, holding out her arms to accept the offered bundle.

“We do hope you will like them,” he said softly, placing the bundle gingerly into her arms.

Same feel as with the cloak: smoothly woven, expensive thread and felt lighter than it looked. Her eyes widened as silvery patterns glinted in the light. Hesitantly she pulled one tunic out. One that had its silver stitches creating tiny twist and whirls around its collar and hem. Butterflies… the sign of rebirth, freedom. The myth of Zemriel had them everywhere, messengers of victory. There were four more tunics in her arms, all the same cut and size. Dark blue, black and grey with flashes of white, silver or gold forming tiny patterns on each one of them. All of them looked far too expensive to even wear! Especially for someone like her! In utter awe, she traced an image of a silver two tailed bird on a dark blue tunic with black sleeves.

How could they trust her not to ruin this? This was… were they supposed to be hers? Her fingers were shaking. A gift, yet somehow she could not bring herself to think of them as hers now. She looked up to Illya and Helios. Was this truly a gift? Just for her? For someone they had just met? For someone they knew was a former slave? Yet, all she saw were curious eyes, waiting for a reaction.

“I…” – She swallowed heavily and smoothed a light wrinkle in the cloth – “I love them.”

“We are glad,” Illya said, her hand squeezed Helios’ briefly. “Temare is already in the fresher. You should join her to get ready.”

Numbly, Edenye nodded tightening her grasp on the bundle as she slowly stood up. Helios pointed down a small corridor opposite the shuttle door.

“If you go in there, your first left should be the fresher door.”

She walked over on wobbly knees and looked on the left. Two doors. The first. Before she could knock however, the door swooshed open revealing a widely grinning Temare.

“Do you like them?” She blurted out, happy giddiness radiating brightly from her.

The excitement punched into Edenye, making her flinch away from its intensity. Yet, it chased away the tension in her shoulders, loosening the knot in her throat finally. Like seeing a room in daylight after it had been dark.

“Yes,” she felt herself starting to grin back.

How could she have thought this was not genuine? Stupid… stupid slave! She should not let Xemok and the overseers get to her like this.

“Good,” Temare pulled her inside, shutting the door. “Which do you want to wear first?”

Edenye set the bundle on a counter.

“I just got them,” she replied. “I honestly do not know. The grey one maybe?”

Temare looked over her shoulder as Edenye held the grey tunic up whose seams, collar and belt were black. The plainest she had been given, one she was more comfortable wearing for now.

“Alright,” Temare sifted through her own pile. “I will wear my black one then. Also, there might be guests coming over, but probably only for mum and dad, so we won’t see them.

“I see,” Edenye replied, pulling her hair out of its braids that were already half-dissolved from sleep.

“Don’t worry about it,” Temare assured her, pulling out her black tunic. “Mum and dad are very careful who gets to see us and who can’t.”

Edenye stared stunned at Temare. Back when she had been a slave, only servants had been allowed to tend to guests. Slaves always been locked away except for her. But, Temare and Cytharat were not slaves… why were they kept away?

Temare sighed. “It is for our own safety,” she explained dipping her fingers into a cream tub. “Some Sith would like to harm my parents. The less they know the better.”

Edenye opened the faucet, letting water splash into the sink. “Why do they invite such Sith then?”

“Good question,” Temare chuckled, rubbing the cream into her face. “No, my parents are high in the Sphere of Law. They have to receive Sith for their work.”

“I understand,” Edenye said, before splashing her face with water. “What are we going to do once we arrive?”

“I’ll show you the house,” Temare answered. “Then, I suspect that Cytharat will get to watch over us once the guests arrive. Jedi tag?”

“In the house?”

“In the gardens,” Temare winked. “They are huge, so many places to hide and…,” she lowered her voice and leaned over. “No one else but us and the gardeners. Also, perfect to play a little prank on my brother.”

Edenye shot her a shrewd look, smirking at the mischievously grinning Temare. “What do you have in mind?”

“You know the practice balls for Forceball?” Temare asked. “The soft and squishy ones. We used to practice deflection with them at home.”

“You want to ambush him with them?” Edenye realized.

“Yes,” Temare’s grin had grown downright devilish. “And he will be perfectly defenseless!”

“You want to get him in the face?” Edenye asked with a wink, carefully pulling her new tunic over her head.

“I would give you my face jewellery if you manage that!” Temare giggled. “Also…” – She pulled out a red ribbon from a small box. “Can you help me braid them in?”

Edenye’s heart stopped. The colour… the length… the same as in her vision all those years ago. She could not breathe, her fingers just hovering over the ribbon. Phantom giggling back in her head, the colours dancing in the light had returned. Releasing her lower lip she had bit on, she grabbed the ribbons. Hopefully Temare had not noticed her hesitation…. How could she even begin to explain?

What did this all mean? What was going to happen?

They landed near an impossibly blue lake where a sprawling mansion rose into the sky. High grey walls shielded most from view except for the upper levels and roof. Yet, even from the landing pad it looked larger than the academy. At the foot of the pad was a road leading away and towards a small town not too far away. Her mouth dropped open as soon as she stepped around the

“We audiences here for the nearby towns,” Illya explained next to her, walking over to her. “We are the court here for the surrounding area.”

“How many towns?” Edenye asked.

“Ten towns and their villages,” Illya replied. “A lot of administration mostly. Some Sith dealings can take months if not years to work out.”

“I see,” Edenye looked up to her.

Illya only smiled, pulling her away from the edge of the landing pad.

“Come!” Temare yelled then, turning away from the servant she had been talking to. “I will show you around!”

Edenye jogged over, to where Temare was practically skipping on her feet. As soon as she reached her, Temare grabbed her and started to pull her towards the gate leading into the mansion grounds.

“Be back for dinner!” Helios’ call was faint as they ran down the wide path past the gate.

Once past the gate, her jaw dropped at the sight in front of her. Only Temare’s grip on her arm prevented her from stopping in her tracks. Far bigger than Relion’s estate, at least in her memories it had seemed smaller. She could not tear her eyes away as Temare kept pulling her down the path. White walls dotted with tall windows. Not grey, not a looming storm cloud gathering in the distance. More open, soft colours that glowed in the early morning sun that threw an orange-pink light on the walls. Between the cleanly cut hedges she could see glimpses of small areas with benches and tables. Guards and even _Sith_ stood or walked there, only giving them a furtive glance before returning to what they had been doing previously.

“Lots of Sith work here,” Temare explained when she made them stop in front of the stairs leading up to the main doors. “They don’t interact with us too much, so don’t worry about them.”

“What do they do?”

“You mean in the Sphere?” Temare asked walking up the stairs. “They prepare court cases, defend or are an attorney while my parents act as the judges.”

“Oh,” Edenye replied. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Every day,” Temare sighed. “The front rooms here are courtrooms, so when we go inside, we cannot talk until we get to the part we live in.”

“Do the others live here too?”

“Some do, at least the ones my parents deem the most trustworthy,” Temare shrugged and started to walk up the stairs. “Most live in the closest town though with their families.”

“Ah,” Edenye pressed out, hurrying after Temare up the stairs and through the large double doors.

Even the inside looked so much larger than the academy main hall! More Sith stood in the hall holding datapads, folders and even briefcases. All in deep conversation with civilian or military people. Some bowed lightly in Temare’s direction while curious glances slid over Edenye’s shoulders and back. Only passing curiosity, before their attention flitted away.

The private part of the mansion was… Edenye had to stop dead in her tracks.

Almost like she was back in Relion’s estate. Not the same, no… she couldn’t quite say, there were paintings hanging on the wall, unlike Relion who had hated paintings, and the chandeliers here were smaller. But the same Imperial red carpets lined the hall Temare dragging her through, talking about the rooms they passed and introducing some servants.

The garden towards the back, however … was where Edenye could not contain the small noise of awe that slipped from her. Far better kept, far more colours burst through the vibrant green in the circular patch of yard that was framed by tall trees that sported pinkish-blue blooms.

“This the private garden,” Temare explained cheerily. “The front one is where we host meetings between Sith or even Dark Councilors should they choose to.”

“Have you met the Dark Councilors?” Edenye asked still stunned.

“Oh no!” Temare laughed. “Never! Cytharat and I would always be locked away when that happened.”

“You finally done showing her around?” Cytharat suddenly called from the side.

Temare frowned, looking around before she leaned over the side railing on the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” She yelled as Cytharat sauntered into Edenye’s field of view, hands clasped behind his back.

“Mum and dad said to keep an eye on you two, apparently the guests have arrived earlier than expected,” Cytharat shrugged and stopped right at the end of the stairs. “Jedi Tag?”

“Us against you?” Edenye crossed her arms, shooting Cytharat a questioning look.

“Of course,” he grinned back. “Only way to make is somewhat fair.”

Edenye giggled into her fist as Temare gasped. “You did not!”

“I did,” Cytharat stemmed his two hands against his waist. “Now…”

“Hold on,” Temare shot in between. “Boundaries!”

Cytharat snorted. “We are to be out of sight and mind for a while, so no boundaries.”

“For so long?” Edenye blurted out.

“That important?” Temare echoed her surprise.

“I don’t know?” Cytharat shrugged helplessly. “All I know is that they told me to keep you guys as far away from the reception rooms as possible.”

“Bet it is a Dark Councilor or someone who thinks they are that,” Temare mocked with a derisive snort. “Count to fifty?”

“Fine,” Cytharat smirked.

“No fast counting!” Temare pointed an accusing finger at her brother.

“You have not forgotten!” Cytharat laughed.

“Of course not!” Temare stuck her tongue out at him. “Still waiting to have my revenge.”

“I am shaking in my boots!”

“You should!”

Cytharat was struggling not to burst into a laughing fit. His amusement openly brimmed around his quivering mouth. Their corners twitched upwards while the two siblings glared off at each other. Until he grinned, showing all of his sharp teeth.

“One!” He called out.

Temare stomped with her foot, indignation flaring up.

“Two,” Cytharat drew out the word, grinning viciously with the playful note still hanging around him.

“Come!” Temare then pulled at Edenye’s sleeve.

Down the stairs, they raced over the gravel over the circular yard that all of the sudden felt gigantic. Into a path that opened up between the trees, their boots stomping over trodden out earth. Past bushes, stone benches, Cytharat’s voice had long gone too quiet to even hear anymore. Birds were chirping over the pounding of her heart, with the tree tops swaying in her peripherals.

Temare’s ribbons fluttered behind her, some of her hair had grown loose from the braids. Snaking through the air, like the threads in the Force…. Like in her dream… vision… the ribbons fluttering in front of her. Disembodied giggling wafted through her head and mind.

As if she had finally turned her head to clearly see the vision that had only been seen from her peripherals. Her body was moving disconnected from her mind. Soft wings hit the back of her head. A tug of a memory. Of orange blooms floating and a cloak. Time stood still, water rushed in her ears as she stared at the orange flowers shining in the morning light with the black cloak settling on her shoulders and over her head.

Air rushed into her face, an exhale from the surroundings.

Something had happened. Something she’d know soon.

“Here!” Temare turned sharply on another path that wound back to the mansion.

Edenye rushed after the Pureblood who without slowing down jumped over a small bush. Following her, she slid to a stop to where Temare patted down her tunic for any wrinkles.

“Now he should take some time to find us,” Temare murmured surveying the spot there were standing in. “The best hiding spot is close, but we need to keep moving.”

“Is there a trick to this?” Edenye asked, catching up to Temare who was marching straight forward.

“There is,” Temare answered. “Just keep moving.”

“Wouldn’t he just sense us?”

“Oh definitely! That is the purpose of the game. Sense and find before the other does,” Temare skidded down a hill where a parallel going path was.

“Do you have more catchers usually?”

“Sure,” Temare sighed wistfully. “Three to four are ideal, but the Sith from the town are all still in their academies so… just us for now.”

Edenye stretched out, her senses touching and prodding around them. Nothing… quiet.

“My brother has mastered the art of going undetected,” Temare giggled. “Sensing him will be difficult.”

“You learned how to become invisible from him?”

“Oh yes,” Temare pulled a face. “Took me weeks to get the hang of it though.”

“Still, you evaded that one overseer with ease!” Edenye argued, jumping after Temare.

“Honestly, I was shocked it worked!” Temare shook her head in disbelief, then she smirked. “If you can evade Cyth with invisibility… then I will get you something.”

“Of my choice?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Temare winked. “My plan does not involve that, though.”

Edenye snorted. A light nudge on her left elbow.

“He is coming from there.” She pointed at the direction it had come from.

Temare blinked. “Well… I didn’t sense anything. But, that means he is trying to cover the main paths.”

“What are his usual tactics?”

“He has a regular path pattern.” Temare nodded to where they had come from. “Probably is walking them up and down until he gets a trail on us.”

“Hence the moving around?”

“Exactly,” Temare scrunched up her nose. “Well, this should be the spot.”

Edenye looked up. Tree branched arched over the path forming a sort of ceiling over their heads. The thick tree crowns blocked out the sunlight dousing the upper branches into long shadows. If they were to hide on the lower branches, they’d be obscured by the leaves… A good ambush point to throw balls at him.

“So… how are we getting the balls?”

“I had some time to plan this,” Temare rubbed her hands. “Asked a servant to hide some here… look behind the trees. Should be a basket of sorts.”

Edenye chuckled, already walking to the first tree next to her. “How long has this been in the plans?”

“Ever since the last break,” Temare huffed. “When it comes to my brother, I plan everything months in advance.”

No basket here, the bushes were too thick to directly see anything. Perfect to conceal anything. She brushed some twigs and leaves aside… Still no basket.

“Hah, found it!” Temare announced smugly.

Turning around, Edenye saw Temara holding up a shallow basket that held several fuzzy orange balls. Excitement radiated off of her while grinning widely.

“So… that means you have a plan how to lure him in?”

“Yes,” Temare looked up to the nearest branches. “Prod him enough to make him think he has a lead on us.”

“Nice,” Edenye shot her an impressed raised eyebrow.

“Thanks,” Temare smirked back. “Least he can do now is to have a nicely surprised face.”

Edenye giggled. “Which branch we jumping on?”

Temare hummed in thought before pointing at one of the thicker, sturdier looking branches that spanned directly over their heads.

“Jump up, so we can float the basket up.”

Crouching down, Edenye looked to where she was supposed to go. The Force prickled in her bones and muscles as it rushed into her legs. She pushed herself off the ground. Air whistled as she sailed up. Her feet landed on the flatter part of the branch while her hands gripped at a higher hanging branch.

Carefully, she shuffled to stabilize her balance. Looking down, she saw Temare giving her a thumbs up. She smiled down. Movement enhanced through the Force had only been recently introduced to them in the academy. Temare held out the basket above her head, as Edenye stretched out her free hand. Its weight pulled on her finger tips as it slowly started to float up. For a moment, then the weight vanished to that of a feather lying on her nails.

It arched down next to her.

A low whistle and Temare landed beside her, grinning again as she shuffled into a more comfortable position.

“Easy,” Temare commented. “We might have to throw them with the Force, but that’s doable.”

“Of course,” Edenye narrowed her eyes on the small patch of path they could see from between the leaves. “Now to lure him in.”

“Leave that to me,” Temare snorted and closed her eyes.

A light tap on her nose and then… stillness. For a few heartbeats nothing… until nudge on her forehead. Inquisitive with laughter echoing underneath it. So, Cytharat had found the bait and took it with no suspicion. Oh the surprise that would await him!

“Took the bait,” Edenye whispered.

“Who will be the dumb one now?” Temare cackled, opening her eyes again.

“Did he…?”

“He called my tactics dumb.” Temare sniffed. “Shhhh… He is close. Get a ball ready!”

Edenye pointed a finger at one of the balls, making it levitate in front of her. Ready to be thrown.

It took Cytharat a few minutes before he marched down the path there were waiting above on. Dipping into the surrounding currents, she felt him touching and jumping along the ground. Searching for them, missing the small bumps and ripples they threw just above him.

So they waited with bated breath as he slowly approached the place

She made a sharp hand wave, throwing the ball down.

It became an orange blur until…

“OW!” Cytharat’s outraged cry was all he got before Temare’s ball hit him square in the nose.

“Suck on this!” Temare yelled.

Edenye summoned another. This time hitting him on the forehead. He tried to evade, lift his hands in front of his face, but they were too accurate and fast. Always hitting him somewhere in the chest or face.

Until the basket was empty and they were bent over from laughing. Her stomach hurt from how hard she was laughing. Even her fingers were slipping on the wood. But his face! Priceless! It was scrunched up in annoyance while orange fuzz clung to his face jewelry and hair. Temare wheezed and pointed down.

“Revenge, Cyth!”

Cytharat wiped at his face, trying to get rid of the fuzz. “You planned this!”

“Of course!”

Cytharat shook his head. “You can come down. I concede!”

Edenye looked over to Temare who nodded. They both let go, letting themselves fall back to the ground.

“I admit.” Cytharat looked amused at the two of them. “This was not what I had expected to run into.”

“Should have when you taught me how to become invisible.” Temare snarked back.

“Honestly.” Cytharat chuckled. “I cannot even be mad!”

“Just as I planned,” Temare quipped satisfied with a lifted chin.

Cytharat glanced at his sister through half-hooded eyes. Flickers of mischief danced in the lashes were their only warning. In a flash, he had grabbed Temare, wrestling her to the ground. They went down in a heap of shrieks and flailing limbs.

Edenye had to jump out of their way, as they rolled around while Temare’s face grew darker the longer she laughed uncontrollably.

“STOP!” Temare yelled while kicking out wildly.

But Cytharat did not relent. With a loud cackle he continued mercilessly wrestling with his sister. For a moment at least. Then he let go, leaving Temare wheezing on the ground.

“Revenge of the Cyth,” Cytharat whispered triumphantly, rising back to his feet.

Edenye blinked, stunned laughter making her mouth twitch upwards. “That was bad… like… really bad.”

Cytharat waggled his eyeridges. “I live to please.”

“Then you are a living failure.” Temare gasped out, heaving in breaths while she sat up.

Cytharat rolled his eyes. “Well… since you won this round, you get to be chasers for the next one.”

“Finally!” Temare grabbed Edenye by her arm. “Edenye and I can take you.”

“I have no doubts,” Cytharat snorted.

Before Temare could retort anything, loud footsteps approached them hastily.

“Masters!” A voice called out, just as the steps sped up .

Temare groaned. “Oh no….”

A servant came running around the curve in the path. Relief trailing after them as he spotted them standing there.

“By the Emperor, how does he always find us?” Cytharat grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Your parents wish for you to return and present yourselves to the esteemed guests.”

The three of them exchanged surprised looks, confusion flaring up in between them.

“Me too?” Edenye pointed to herself.

“You should be included.” Cytharat sighed. “We will be on our way.”

“I do advise to hurry.” The servant stated, whirling around on his heels.

“Who do you think the guests are?” Temare asked then, looking completely caught off guard.

Edenye could not answer. Her chest had grown too light and her eyes were drawn back to the ribbons in Temare’s hair. The orange fuzz of the balls like blooms in her hair… somehow… she thought of Malgus then, the birds’ chirping sounded like Eleena’s laughter.

_Why were they here?_

* * *

 

A strange stillness had fallen over the mansion when Edenye, Temare and Cytharat were herded inside. Rich red curtains danced like clouds in the breeze blowing through the opened windows. Almost in an airy celebration, the light thrown on the opposite wall swam dreamlike in the movement. Yet, the calm was disrupted as soon as they stepped into a large hall. Other servants were rushing from one door to another. Busy, too focused on their tasks to pay any attention to them. They were led through the chaos to a smaller door in the furthest corner.

“Your father wishes that you to clean up before I take you to the guests,” he said, pointing at the door.

A command, phrased as a suggestion. She could hear Helios’ tone from the way it was worded. With a glance to the side, she saw Temare wincing guiltily while Cytharat plucked awkwardly a tiny pebble from his robes. They had heard this too. Without so much of a sound of protest, they turned to the door.

“Fresher,” Temare explained and waved the door open. “You might want to redo your braids.”

Edenye’s hands flew to the top of her head. Loose strands tangled between her fingers. How disheveled she must look, right now! Best case only the top braids would have to be redone, worst case all of them! Face hot, she started to undo them following the two Purebloods inside.

“Is there fuzz on my back?” Cytharat asked, twisting to see his back in the mirror.

“Some,” Temare answered, with a ribbon already between her teeth. “I can brush if off in a bit.”

Cytharat pursed his lips, looking at his sister. “You have some dirt on your cheek. Edenye, you only really need to worry about your braids.”

Half her braids were already a mess of knots around her head. Temare wiped furiously at her right cheek, the water in the sink slowly turning dirt brown.

“Why didn’t they tell us we were to be presented?” Cytharat groaned, twisting one of his tendril ornaments back into its proper place.

“Not planned maybe?” Edenye asked, starting to push her pins back into their place.

Just as a comfortable weight settled around her shoulder blades. Like a hand resting there, waiting to guide her. She stilled in the movement of twisting a pin into her upper braids. Malgus?

“But mum and dad only let someone see us if it was planned well in advance,” Cytharat shook his head firmly. “Either this is a high-ranking Sith or…”

“We are to witness judgement,” Temare finished grimly. “In both cases we have to look and behave the part.”

Edenye swallowed heavily. The rules and protocols for a judgement had been rigorously chewed through in history and politics. What would happen, what had to be said… it all was there in her head. Just, it felt different. It _was_ different. Darth Malgus was here. Either to witness a judgement or he was the guest they were being presented to.

“Any pointers I should know?” She asked quietly, pushing the last pin in.

“Speak only when asked to,” Temare rattled off, rewinding her ribbon back into her hair.

“Sit still, do not show any emotion,” Cytharat added. “All you need here. Our parents do not wish for us to get involved. We are only there to observe.”

“You will be fine,” Temare assured her.

Would they be this calm if she told them who she had sensed? Malgus, the hero of the Empire not too far away, yet felt as distant as a universe. Pinching her mouth into a thin line, she swiftly redid her braids’ ends. She should warn them, least she could do.

“I think I’ve sensed who the guest is,” she muttered, hoping the other two had not noticed her hesitation.

The two siblings snapped their heads around to her. Shocked, apprehensive even.

“Who?” Cytharat asked, while Temare flicked off an orange fuzz from his tunic.

She took a deep breath before blurting out quickly. “Darth Malgus.”

One could hear a pin drop in the dead silence. Temare and Cytharat stared at her stunned, unable to form words. Golden eyes blinked at the same time. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then their shock transformed into an anxious fluttering of a rapid beating heart.

“Darth…” Cytharat managed to stammer out, his voice hitching up in pitch. “ _Malgus_?”

Edenye nodded jerkily, avoiding the curious glint in Temare’s eyes.

“How did you know?” Temare asked, head tilted to the side to look at her from underneath her eyelashes.

“I sensed him,” Edenye explained carefully. “He found me and brought me to the academy.”

“I… see,” Temare rubbed her forehead, sounding lost and overwhelmed. “Just… what does he want here?”

“I do not know.” Edenye replied, awkwardly folding her arms across her chest.

“Stars…” Temare mouthed. “If _he_ is here, then how important is this?”

“Have you heard mum and dad talking about something?” Cytharat hissed. “Cause I haven’t!”

“Neither have I!” Temare shot back. “We both just got back _yesterday_!”

“Still!” Cytharat argued. “How long do you think you need to plan for Malgus to come for a visit? They must have mentioned something!”

“I am telling you they told me nothing!” Temare said, tugging her tunic back into place and turned around to her brother. “Let me have a look at your back.”

Cytharat huffed, but turned around.

“Got a few,” Temare murmured absent-mindedly and flicked some stray fuzz off. “There.”

Edenye glanced over to Temare, whose shoulders were hunched forward. Tension drawing them in, as she tried to act as if concern wasn’t shimmering vividly underneath it all. Yet, what was there to be concerned about? Malgus was... well… what did they know? How could anyone? The books in the academies always talked about how coldly and efficiently he sacked the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. The ideal Sith he was called in them. Unapproachable. Unquestionable.

She had thought this too.

Until she had met him again at the tournament. Back then he hadn’t seemed anything like what the books and overseers portrayed him to be.

A light knock made them all flinch.

“Young Masters, I do advise to hurry.” The servant’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Do you think we look good enough?” Cytharat’s tone was tense again.

“I think?” Temare chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t think we cannot get any better other than completing changing.”

“True.” Cytharat adjusted his collar and turned around to open the door.

The servant stood outside, face stoic and hands behind his back. With a sigh, Temare grabbed Edenye by the elbow and started to follow her brother.

“Who has come?” Cytharat asked, with a slight crinkle between his eyeridges.

“Darth Malgus and the Lady Daru.”

Cytharat and Temare threw her wide stares. After all, it was the confirmation of what she had told them.

Lady? Since when was Eleena a lady? Surprised, she opened her mouth to ask… but closed it. Eleena was here! She was allowed to be present around Sith! Maybe she got to talk to her? Ask her why she was allowed to accompany Malgus to a Sith Court here.

“We are ready,” Cytharat said, turning to look at the servant again.

“Follow me,” the servant turned around and started walking to a door that seemed to lead away from the court rooms than to them.

“Are we not expected in the court?”

“Your parents received the guests in the private reception room.”

Another surprised glance between the two siblings. Before Edenye could ask however, the servant marched straight towards another door, forcing them to walk faster.

“A private meeting,” Temare explained in a hushed tone, as they were rushed through corridors with finely woven tapestries. “Just between my parents and the guest who is usually a Sith or high ranking.”

“So…,” Edenye could not grasp for words quickly enough.

Per protocol a Dark Lord of the Sith would have an entire entourage following them. Servants, officers or other Sith. Without an entourage, it meant that no outside eyes were meant to be privy to what was being discussed. Just what would a private meeting require them for? Bright orange flashes, light butterfly wings beat against her ears. It had to do with her?

They stopped in front of a double-winged door. White wood with inlaid heavy colourful glass that the servant opened. Inside, Illya and Helios stood with their backs to them. Both were clad in black and grey robes, long and strictly draped over their shoulders. Behind was the familiar strong presence that flickered briefly in recognition.

“My Lords,” the servant announced them stonily, motioning for them to go inside.

Illya turned around, her face closed off and her eyes drawn in silent contemplation.

“You may leave,” she ordered sharply, waving the servant off.

He bowed, drawing the doors shut. Once the door clicked shut, Temare and Cytharat stood straighter. Pressing the heels of her boots together, Edenye tried peer around the two. Illya gave the three of them an assessing look, before she gave them a terse smile.

“Dark Lord…,” she began.

“I sense her,” Malgus’ voice cut in. “I am willing to listen.”

Temare looked at her confused and Edenye could only shrug back. Out of the three of them, she knew the least of what was going on here.

Helios stuck an arm out, a finger pointing at three chairs on the right side of the room. “Sit.”

Nerves strung tight, they slowly staggered over to the padded chairs that leaned against the wall. Illya turned just as Edenye tried to get another peek around. There stood Malgus, in full armour and heavy cloak, with his arms crossed as he stared down at the two Purebloods. His eyes flickered briefly to her before they snapped back. Eleena was seated next to him, her hands curled tightly around a tea cup. Their stances were tense, shoulders rigid, not moving as they breathed. Ready to bolt or fight. For a moment, Eleena looked Edenye in the eyes, a small smile tugged on her lips before she lowered her eyes to the table in front of them. On it sat a deactivated datapad, one that seemed to draw in all light in the room and consumed it completely.

Malgus pursed his lips, hesitation and apprehension swirling tightly underneath the outer edges of his mind. For a long moment, they all held their breaths. Waiting and watching him.

The hesitation disappeared when Malgus released a long breath while fixating Illya and Helios with a glare.

“I accept,” Malgus said slowly and deliberately, stretching out a hand towards Illya and Helios. “May this be the push the Empire needs.”

“Be assured of our utmost gratitude,” Illya replied, her voice shaking lightly in her utter relief.

Eleena rose from her seat and commented: “This will not be easy.”

“We are prepared for anything,” Helios bowed his head.

Malgus turned towards them, regarding the three of them curiously. “So, this is your son?”

Edenye and Temared looked to Cytharat who sat frozen in his seat.

“Yes.” Illya clasped her hands in front of her stomach as she strode to stand next to him.

“I shall submit my request at the academy,” Malgus declared after a pause, then looked at Cytharat. “May you prove the strongest in your trials to become my apprentice.”

Apprentice? Cytharat’s eyes widened in shock. He sought out his parents, confused as the words had not truly sunk in. Barely, they nodded. Swallowing heavily, elation flared up just as he shot from his seat.

“Thank you… my Lord” Cytharat stammered, shooting up into an awkward bow. “I will… strife to meet your expectations.”

“Only one can become my apprentice,” Malgus countered. “I hope that you do.”

Selected for the trials? With a stunned blink, she looked to Temare. But she was not looking at her instead was squeezing her brother’s forearm. Wavering triumph shone through the surprise, electrifying her fingertips. She glanced over to Malgus and Eleena, who were still talking to Illya and Helios. Would… she lowered her head so she watched them from underneath her eyelashes. Would they get to talk? Like Malgus had promised?

Calm assurance washed over her when Eleena’s eyes settled on her. ‘Wait’ was mouthed in her direction. Before she could react anything, Temare gripped her arm.

“Can you believe it?” Temare whispered not so quietly into her ear. “Malgus is taking an apprentice!”

Edenye turned to look to Temare who was grinning from side to side. An enormous honour had been granted to her brother and family. Become the apprentice to an Imperial hero who had been rumoured to be unwilling to take on an apprentice.

Malgus straightened out then, near towering over them all. In this second, his presence changed. To an air of a commander of armies, unapproachable and demanding as he glared down at the two Purebloods. Illya and Helios bowed their heads lightly.

“Temare, Cytharat,” Illya ordered briskly and nodded sharply to the door. “Go to the kitchens to oversee the meal preparations.”

“Yes,” both of their children mumbled, sliding off the chairs.

Edenye quickly followed, bowing at the waist.

“Edenye, you stay,” Helios turned to her directly.

They all froze in their steps. Yet, Illya’s and Helios’ faces were closed off, not showing anything. Only when Helios cleared his throat roughly, Temare and Cytharat walked out hesitantly. Both constantly looking over their shoulders to her. Worried and uncertain before the door shut right in their faces. Only then did Illya and Helios sink into their own seats. Their faces now visibly drawn in pure exhaustion.

“Edenye,” Eleena shifted her stance, feet no longer in a combat stance. “It has been too long.”

“That is true,” Edenye replied, clasping her hands in front of her stomach unsure where else to put them.

Speak until asked to, so she shut her mouth. The four adults exchanged looks of confusion until Malgus sighed heavily.

“We would appreciate some privacy. Any further matters can be discussed over the meal.”

“Of course,” Helios conceded cautiously, his eyes flying over the windows and the door to their side. “We shall send for you once it is ready.”

“We appreciate the hospitality.”

“For the Empire,” Illya simply said airily, chin lifted and glided out of the room with Helios following behind her.

For the Empire? That had sounded like… she scrunched her nose up, like... she had been happy about the request. A sense of certainty and triumph on an accomplishment. Just what?

“I did promise we’d speak again,” Malgus broke the silence first, turning to face her.

“You have, my…” she began, but bit her tongue when Malgus lifted up a corner of his mouth. “I just did not expect this to happen in this way.”

“Neither have I,” Malgus confessed, rubbing his chin while glancing over to Eleena. “Your friend’s parents sent us a message that they wished to negotiate an alliance. In turn for my attention, they’d allow us a place to talk without any unwanted ears and eyes.”

“Is this what you had wanted to talk about at the tournament?” Edenye asked, her nails dug into the back of her hand.

“Yes,” he confirmed calmly. “It did not work out back then.”

“The reason why there is a matter to discuss with you” – Eleena gently butted in, gripping her forearm – “is….”

“When I registered you in the academy I gave you my last name,” Malgus interrupted harshly, jolting Eleena and Edenye.

Her last name? It was actually _his_ last name? Names meant family, a legacy! Why would he give her his? There was a knot in her throat, her mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. Eleena shot a hard glare to Malgus who frowned at her, visibly confused. An image that made her head hurt, orange rippling around them. As if she were looking at them from underneath water… Why had he made her his legacy? Implications whirled around in her head. So many and none of them were simple.

“My Lord…” She croaked out, feeling fainter.

“I adopted you,” Malgus finished the thought for her. “In all traditions of the Sith, not formally, but I had hoped that it would afford you sufficient protection.”

Had hoped? No longer then? What did he mean? What did this all mean?!

“This protection no longer has power anymore. There are developments in the Empire that will overturn your right to be Sith,” Malgus’ tone had softened. “In order to ensure your protection, I will need to formalize the adoption.”

Protection? _Formal adoption_? Why? Why would they? Why her? This did not make sense! A piece of this holocron was missing and they were not telling her. Who went around and adopted some random acolyte they had found? Her tongue was glued to the bottom of her mouth. Too many questions… and none of them seemed to find their way to be spoken.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Eleena reassured. “We’d understand if you needed more time to…”

“Why?” She finally pressed forth.

“Why?” Malgus repeated her question, eyebrow raised in Eleena’s direction for help.

“Why me?” Edenye asked again, now anger furling in her gut. “This is not just about my protection. I am _nothing_ to you.”

Malgus mouth twitched up in amusement. “No,” he admitted. “There are other reasons.”

“What are they?” She demanded, the dam on her questions had finally broken and she balled her hands up in fists. “I deserve to know!”

“Initially I wished to give you enough protection until you were selected for the trial,” Malgus explained. “That was until things in the Empire changed. It has become more dangerous for you now.”

“Someone like me,” she realized, her anger fled and she deflated into her seat.

“Former slave and,” Malgus looked at her mismatched eyes and her abnormally growing ears. “Most likely of alien descend. A lot of the old Sith families worry that they are being replaced” – he pulled a face at the last word – “by _lesser_ Sith.”

Edenye frowned. But he had said…

“Regardless, you are in danger now.” Malgus’ face was closed off again. “My name will no longer protect you. It has turned you into a target because of if found out I have not given you my full protection.”

“Who?”

“Sith Lords, Overseers, other acolytes,” Malgus counted off. “Far too many.”

“Why does this matter to you?” Edenye asked, unclenching her fists.

“Failure is not the Sith’s way,” Malgus interjected. “It” – his mouth twisted as if he had bitten in something sour – “was advantageous to me to give you my name back then. Now, that advantage has been turned on me. You are everything they hate.”

“Why is your name no longer enough?”

“They would not dare to go against me directly,” Malgus scoffed. “I am too secure in my position. But you… should they get to and kill you, it would deal a blow to my efforts in the Dark Council. Any change I had hoped to accomplish would be stunted if not completely disintegrated.”

Edenye opened her mouth, just as Eleena sighed heavily while rubbing her forehead.

“I will let my efforts be in vain,” Malgus seemed to talk over her, more to himself. “It is not in my interest to keep you without protection. If I were to formalize the adoption, any move against you is one directly against me.

Her chest felt like it was collapsing, squeezing out any air. Numb, fingers numb, her mind no longer in her body. Formal adoption? Was that all? All that is was to them? Not her, only her political significance? How could this be all?

Stupid… stupid her. What had she expected? Sith did not work this way! Everyone had their use and had to play it. What delusions did she have?

Yet… she observed Eleena and Malgus looking at her, waiting for an answer. They were waiting for her consent. Why would they offer her this, explain how important it was to keep her safe and still grant her the power to refuse it all? Why have her have the choice?

There must be more to this. Another reason, one they were not telling her. Malgus was a white space, impenetrable, hiding his reasons. Still, he made no sense. A Sith took or gave what they saw fit, without asking. Politics might be a plausible, yet he still gave her the illusion of a choice? Especially if their position in the Empire hinged on it.

Why even _tell_ her?

“She needs time to think,” Eleena said quietly, squeezing her forearms in comfort.

“Alright,” Malgus conceded, throwing a look outside. “But time is running out.” He turned towards the door. “I will file my reports. Expect me at the meal.”

Then he strode out of the door, leaving her and Eleena alone in a room that felt so vast that it could swallow them both.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is time to make a decision for Edenye. After knowing that her last name, one that she had always perceived as a gift, had come with an offer, or a burden. Yet, even Sith can be left searching for answers.  
> Trigger warning: Mentions of child loss.

* * *

 

“So…” Temare sounded lost as she paced from side to side in front of Edenye. “Malgus wants to adopt you?”

“Yes,” Edenye answered, still too dazed to form any thoughts past what had offered to her hours ago.

Temare flung herself onto a chair, frowning hard at the squishy toy lying on the floor in front of her. One they were actually supposed to use to practice their lightning on right now. Of all things she had expected, Edenye had never thought that the break would be filled with so many private lessons by overseers or Sith Lords wanting to earn an extra stipend. At the academy, they were left to their own devices without any side lessons. They were not even allowed to do anything other than lift a ball during quiet hours!

“And what did you say?” Temare broached cautiously, looking towards her again.

“Nothing,” Edenye confessed sheepishly, sinking deeper into her chair.

“Why? This is….” Temare drew her eye-ridges together.

“I know what it means.” Edenye sighed, rubbing her temple where a dull pounding was growing. “I will no longer be seen as a slave…”

“You will no longer be potentially targeted by that murderer,” Temare noted, twisting a bit so she was fully lying on her side. “Why are you hesitating?”

“I told you, I sensed that they were not forthright with their reasons.”

“From what you told me, those reasons seem pretty transparent,” Temare remarked drily.

“Then why even let me have the choice?” Edenye argued back.

“Why do _you_ think?” Temare asked critically.

“Me?” Edenye let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know them!”

“You do, though. Better than most of us.” Temare pointed out cooly. “He supported my team _because_ of you. Even smuggled you into the match despite orders contrary! Does not sound like he is just acting out of pure politics.”

“He only found me, haven’t had many interactions with him since. There is more to it.”

“I am agreeing with you on this.” Temare held up one hand in surrender. “But you are in the position to know why. I can _only_ speculate.”

“I mean…” Edenye picked up her own doll, squeezing its tiny neck as if it would spill the answers she desperately needed. “They were kind to me during the days in Hyperspace before they dropped me off at the academy.”

Little crackles filled her the air… the hair on her forearms stood on end. With a frustrated sigh, Edenye watched blue-white lightning discharge her arms right into the insulating material. She needed something in her hands, otherwise her still unstable lightning powers would zap all over the place.

“Kind?”

“He helped me control my powers before we arrived. Amongst other things.”

Temare’s eye-ridges sped upwards in open surprise. “So… why are you still wondering?”

“What do you mean?”

“So.” Temare leaned forward, holding up one finger. “You are telling me that Malgus at first freed you” – a second finger went up – “helped you control your power amongst other things and _then_ ” – the third finger was added – “he actively sought you out at the academy” – the fourth finger came –“Helped you get into the match” – the fifth rose too – “supported my team probably throwing a lot of Sith into a frenzy and _now_ ” – Temare dropped her hand, looking smug – “wants to adopt you while giving you a choice? And you want me to believe that this is purely out of politics.”

“I don’t know what to think!” Edenye hissed back, another discharge zipping into the toy.

“Careful.” Temare pointed at a slight trail of smoke rising from the doll. “You are letting the lightning respond too much to your emotions.”

Edenye groaned. “We are not getting to lightning in Sorcery until next year.”

“I thought… Nevermind.” Temare shook her head then. “So what are you learning in your extra lessons?”

“Control,” Edenye winced. “I….”

“… have a unique power?” Temare finished for her as she tilted her head to the side. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Edenye froze, sending Temare a questioning stare.

“You _feel_ different in the Force, far too different from anyone I have ever sensed.” Temare explained. “I do not know what it is. But… it would make sense?”

Edenye did not know how to respond. No one in the academy must ever know. Something she had to swear to Malgus before he had let her go on the shuttle that had brought her to the academy. Only her future Master would ever have access to the files Emfort had been compiling on her. If Irithrea could not know, then neither could Temare. But she had sensed its presence regardless, if not the nature of it.

“You do not have to tell me,” Temare spoke again with a light grin. “I wouldn’t either if it were me.”

Edenye smile ruefully at Temare who leaned back in her chair.

“When I first learned lightning, I had to carry this toy everywhere because I kept discharging all the time!” Temare switched the topic, grabbing her own doll from where she had dropped it before.

Edenye blurted out a startled giggle. “For how long?”

“A whole day!” Temare griped, giving her a pointed look. “Prepare for a long day.”

“Stars,” Edenye rubbed her forehead, as another wave of lightning raced down her arm. “I feel so….”

“Unprepared?” Temare supplied softly.

“Yes,” Edenye admitted, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“I… understand,” Temare deflated, pursing her lips in thought before she spoke again. “If you accept the adoption, you will have all of this.”

“All of this?”

“Preparation,” Temare made a large arm movement around the chamber. “You would have what I have.”

“What about my group? That is unfair to them.”

“My parents told me about a recent push to pass a policy change that will be implemented after this break. More lessons and preparations for former slaves and acolytes from civilian backgrounds during academy breaks.”

Edenye frowned at Temare. “What arguments did they use to make the Dark Council agree?”

“The stronger an acolyte is, the stronger the future Sith and such a stronger Empire. More power to the Masters and you know… all those arguments.” Temare pulled a face, flicking her fingers summoning small lightning balls that floated around her doll’s tiny head. “Why do you think Irithrea was allowed to attend this alchemy session?”

Edenye mouthed an ‘oh’ in surprise. That explained a lot… they had all thought that since they had progressed to the main academy, more lessons were granted to them.

“It was also how they got permission from the principal overseer to get you here.”

“Really?” Edenye’s eyes widened. “I thought they didn’t care?”

“We acolytes do enjoy a certain level of protection,” Temare shrugged. “You should know that.”

“I… yes,” Edenye looked away. “It is just… not what I had expected given how the academy usually treats us.”

Temare remained quiet for a moment and Edenye looked over to her friend. A sad resignation hovered in the Force. “Either way,” Temare blew on the doll making the lightning spheres descend on the doll’s head. “There is resistance against this policy and it becoming law. If what Malgus said is true, which it is, you will be targeted by those sympathetic to repeal the change. Once you are fully adopted, you will be under his full protection until the trials.”

“He gave me his name before giving me over to the academy, without telling me. I just… can’t see why.”

Temare drew in a hissing breath. “I do not presume to know Malgus. Yet, this stinks of a badly thought of political move that he is now scrambling to save now that political stances are shifting backwards. But… him giving you a choice and not just doing it makes no sense if that were the case.”

“And taking your brother as a potential apprentice,” Edenye added. “Felt like there had been a deal with your parents in him.”

“Most apprentice trials are filled like that,” Temare shook her head. “But… you do have a point. I do sense there is more to this, but…” She shot Edenye a shrewd look. “You could ask him? Out of everyone in the Empire right now, he might be more willing to answer if he wishes for you to accept.”

“As if…”

“You have some power over him,” Temare reminded her. “Do not throw that away just yet.”

Edenye deflated. “This is not a matter I wish to exploit a position of power on.”

“Would it be?” Temare asked.

Edenye opened her mouth to reaffirm… but… was it truly using her position in a way she would hate? After all, this was her life. One that would fundamentally change should she agree. He had given her power over him, of his own will. Why should she not use it? For answers, to no longer be confused about his interest in her.

“We will see,” she finally relented.

“It has only been a few hours ago,” Temare said, a comforting note hanging in her voice. “You still have time to think this over. And we have one more lesson before dinner.”

* * *

 

That night, it was not Malgus who came to talk to her. An urgent call had bound him to his chambers for the better part of the day and well into the night. Illya and Temare had ushered her into a chamber that would be hers for the entire stay after dinner. Far larger than the quarters in the academy. Stars the bed alone was broader than two bunks pushed together! Who needed all of this space? But she had bitten her tongue as not to blurt this question out loud and Temare had left with her mother.

It must have been very late when the door opened with a light creak. Shooting up in her bed still half-asleep, Edenye tried to see who had come in… muscles tensing as she prodded around in the Force with bated breath. A familiar presence moulded against her mind, prickling like bubbles in water. Her fingers were still numb from the lightning when she gripped her blanket harder.

 _Eleena_?

Her blurry shape flitted at the back of her eyelids from the door to cautiously move towards her. Butterfly wings started to beat in her ears and skin, her heart picked up its pace the longer the silence pressed down on her. She drew closer, still quiet until Edenye felt the mattress dip. Fingers brushed over her temple and dipped into her hair.

“Are you alright?” Concern laced through Eleena’s near silent voice, just as a lekku settled against Edenye’s back.

“I think…” she murmured in response, keeping her eyes shut. “A lot has happened today.”

A sympathetic smile sang soothingly in her mind. The mattress dipped more and Edenye exhaled, releasing the tension that had accumulated in her shoulders.

“I understand that it is a lot to take in,” Eleena murmured gently.

Inhale, exhale… she kept her eyes tightly shut. If she did not open them, she could pretend this was like two years ago on the trip to Ziost academy. Her first days of freedom. Maybe she could picture Malgus deeply asleep on a nearby couch. What missed were the bandages on her back where only gnarled scar tissue remained now.

As if she could forget the Sith politics that had happened in the last couple of days….

“I do not expect you to understand completely,” Eleena sounded hesitant. “Malgus has not been entirely honest with you.”

“I sensed as much,” Edenye whispered, keeping herself completely still. “He did not lay out all of his reasons.”

“He did not,” Eleena agreed. “There are reasons one cannot speak out loud, least of all in a strange house.”

“They hurt you,” Edenye spoke.

A sharp intake of breath.

“They do…” Eleena sighed. “And they will not stop.”

“What do they have to do with me?”

“Malgus and I…” Eleena winced, akin to a sharp knock on wood in her head.

“Are married?”

Eleena gave out a short laugh. “Not married, but we love each other. We wished to have a family of our own, but the one chance we were granted… we lost it too early for it to live. For weeks we were hurting, until we found you. Malgus thought… he thought I was happy and wanted to preserve this by giving you his name. That had been his first thought, politics came later just so he could justify it to himself.”

This… made more sense. Missing puzzle pieces were pushing into their proper place, yet… a drowning sadness spread from her chest down to her limbs. Sadness spread from her chest down to her limbs, but she finally could breathe more freely. Maybe… maybe they would not use her for their politics? Maybe she’d see something other than an academy before being admitted to the trials? Trials she was not sure she would survive while the Force was strangely silent on the matter.

“Do you want to?” Edenye asked. “I mean….”

“I do,” Eleena replied firmly. “It all depends on you. We won’t force you.”

“I am hesitant,” Edenye breathed out, pulling her blanket right up to her chin. “Why let me have the choice if so much was riding on politics?”

“A lot is riding on it unfortunately,” Eleena shifted slightly. “But neither I nor Malgus wish that you feel pressured into this.”

“The choices would be between being targeted for my name or being safe until the trials.”

“Should you consent, you would be safe until after the trials. However, you will be targeted one way or another, this will not change. The difference will lie in how strong you will be once it happens. As an apprentice, your Master is obliged to offer you protection from other Sith. You will be targeted one way or another, but we are offering you a chance to survive.”

“But… I am not Sith in their eyes?”

“No, nor will you ever be.”

“Anyone can be Sith,” Edenye breathed out, more to reassure herself.

“Malgus told me,” Eleena huffed in laughter. “Once you are a Sith apprentice, no one can ever question your background.”

“Aren’t there other Sith who are aliens?”

“There are,” Eleena sighed. “Too few however and are always waved off as exceptions. A lot of Sith work against it, to keep this a minority. They would kill you if they could.”

“But a Sith cannot accept help!”

“All high born acolytes are helped,” Eleena cut in. “Do not believe what they preach to you. It only applies to you, not them.”

For a long moment, they both said nothing. Listening to their breathing, Edenye tried to keep her mind from sleeping into sleep.

“What does Malgus want?” She cautiously asked. “He does not seem to be that type of Sith.”

“A reformed Empire,” Eleena answered wistfully.

“New?”

“No, better, reformed. We have been working for this for decades now.” Eleena paused. “You do not have to want us as your parents. There is time to work on that and… we would never want to replace your mother.”

“My mother is dead,” Edenye answered, chest hollow as she said it.

“I could be another, if you want?”

“Two mothers?” Edenye felt a small smile tug on her mouth. “I’d like that.”

“I would be happy if you chose to accept,” Eleena murmured quietly. “Talk to Malgus and then decide. We have time.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not my best chapter, I admit. However, I do hope you enjoyed it and look forward to seeing your comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know what you think, what could be improved etc.


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